#maybe ill just go to sleep about it. turn my brain off.

[greenfiredragonfly]

My brain keeps shouting at me: "what are you even here for if you're not needed?" I'm so tired of this. Just shut uuuuuuuppp. T_T Stop telling me I'm unnecessary and unimportant and just in the way. God.

...how do I find a place where I feel wanted? Where I feel safe? Is it possible? Is it even possible? Please tell me that it's possible please please

[dmercer91]

can we get a part 2 of luke liking jacks best friend??? maybe where they end up together 🤭

got the girl, lh43

in which luke's behaviour finally clicks and you mess with him until he can admit his feelings out loud (2.0k)

soft, almost needy/naive luke is becoming my favourite cause i love me a boy that's deeply reliant on his snuggles despite being tall and man shaped. a little unproofread and a little silly in the middle, for flavour

when you woke up, you found yourself tucked under lukes arm, your face now a little hidden into his neck so that he could be far up enough on the bed that his legs didn't teeter the edge.

he was sound asleep, a little less of a morning person than you despite his hectic schedule during most of the year.

the summer was his time to sleep until ludicrous hours, and you took note throughout the years that he always took advantage.

he was always the last one of the brothers to hobble downstairs for breakfast, sleep frequently prominent in his eyes and his hair a tangled mess of his curls that were drying out due to the lake water and lack of caring for.

so you let him rest, carefully untangling yourself from his grasp and heading to wash your face, and brush your teeth. it would be a while before quinn was up, usually the most responsible brother who knew that if he got up early enough he could poach some of your breakfast and have a little while of peace in the gym or front yard.

you cleaned up some of the water bottles that had been left in the living room from the night prior, folding the throw blankets and fixing up the pillows before starting to cook your breakfast, deciding on a simple one for today; eggs, toast and some fruit.

what you didn't expect was to hear the creak of the stairs within a few seconds of you frying your eggs, your eyebrows furrowing as you examined the microwave for the time.

a little early for quinn, but you figured it was him anyways. "quinny?" you said, your voice travelling far enough to make it to the stairs but not to make its way upstairs and wake anyone.

when he didn't answer, you turned your head and saw that it was luke, rubbing exhaust from his eyes and sleepily making his way over to you.

you smiled, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and tug you into him, and sharp whine echoing into your ear as he saw that you were cooking breakfast.

"it's so early.. come back to bed w' me," he pleaded, tugging you away from the oven and pawing at the knobs of the stove, trying to turn it off.

you giggled, adjusting his arms on you and turning back to your pan, shaking your head.

"i'm making my breakfast, lukey. i can make you some, hm?" he shook his head, tucking his face into your neck as if the natural morning light was too harsh on his eyes.

his arms unravelled from your waist, hands planting on your hips and soothing up and down, pulling your shirt up on your waist a little with each passing.

you bit your lip, his actions from now and last night finally coming together in your brain.

snuggling up with you, staring at you instead of watching a movie he picked out, agreeing to spend the night with you, calling you baby by accident. you weren't sure how you hadn't picked up on it before.

everything was confirmed for you when the stairs croaked once again, now under the feet of the eldest hughes brother. when he saw you, luke still trying to pry your attention away from anything that wasn't him, his face lit with an amused smile.

he knew

you started to ponder on if jack knew, or even trevor and alex. if everyone was painfully aware of luke's eyes always being trained on you and decided to keep it from you.

you blinked back into reality, turning off the stove and plating your eggs. "lu?" you mumbled, offhandedly like you had a question you'd been meaning to ask him for some time, even though it only just come to you.

he hummed, hopeful eyes peeking up at you and his hands coming to a halt. "how about you go get ready and ill make you some breakfast, n' we can have it out on the boat," you murmured, cupping his head in your hand and playing with his curls.

you were gonna see how long it took until he broke, admitted how he'd been feeling.

you watched as his eyes dilated, scanning down to your lips with a deer in headlights-esque look of infatuation. he licked his lips, eyes darting back up to yours as soon as he caught his own staring.

he then nodded, blinking away the evident look of euphoria on his face at the feeling of your hands in his hair.

"oh," he murmured, still nodding along to your question. it was like he was under a spell. "okay," he finished, your hand retreating from his curls and pressing to his chest.

"i'll meet you out there, alright? gotta change once i'm done making your food," you instructed, earning one last nod of confirmation before he finally tore his body away from yours and lugged himself back upstairs and towards his own room.

"don't tell me you're gonna do this until he tells you himself," quinn's voice came from behind you once luke's bedroom door was shut and he couldn't hear the conversation.

"what's the fun in telling him i know? and plus, you can't tell me you didn't love watching that," you gestured to where luke had been standing, calling back to the blindingly obvious pining that the older brother had watched from the stairs.

he nodded a little, smile cracking at his lips as he took the plate of food you had already made for yourself.

you glared at him, mixing together another couple eggs into your bowl now that yours were gone.

"what! they would've been cold by the time you got to the boat anyways," he defended, shovelling a fork full of eggs into his mouth and sitting down at the island.

"y/n?" he asked, swallowing his bite.

you hummed, looking back at him as you poured the eggs into the pan. "you won't just lead him on, will you? like, you feel the same," he asked quietly, eyes avoiding yours after a quick second of eye contact.

your lips pulled back into a smile at his attempt at nonchalant protectiveness over his youngest brother, and you shook your head. "silly question. remember the girl who's face i shoved into a pile of snow? when we were kids?" you recalled, and quinn chuckled.

"yeah. i guess he's kinda always been yours," he stated, much more comfortable now that he knew two of his favourite people would soon stop dancing around each others requited feelings.

when the stairs could be heard again, you were expecting luke, but instead you saw your best friend, gloomy as he stared at you.

"you watched top gun without me, and you had our movie night with my little brother," he pouted, going up to you and ruffling your hair, tugging you into a side hug.

"even?" he asked, looking down at you hopefully.

"you threw me into the pool while i was wearing white. and zegras was there. even," you stuck your hand out, watching as he bashfully took it up to his lips and kissed your knuckles.

"not my brightest impulse decision, i have to admit," he sighed, reaching over your head for a plate and stealing the toast that had come out of the toaster, then some eggs.

you gave him the same glare you'd sent quinn, earning a similarly mischievous grin.

"why'd you make so much if s' not for me?" he wiggled his eyebrows, eyeing luke's bedroom door.

you rolled your eyes, a response you seemed to have needed to resort to one too many times this morning. for future reference, you'd keep in mind that one brother at a time for this hour of the morning was more than enough.

"her and lukey have a breakfast boat date," quinn teased, the two of them looking at each other with excited looks, both with hints of relief that something finally stirred between you and luke.

"at long last was getting a little long, munchkin. good for you," he kissed your forehead, sitting next to quinn at the counter.

"you're both just.. so insufferable" you grumbled, now having to finish off the carton of eggs you'd been using since two plate fulls had been stolen from you.

you popped more toast into the toaster, frowning at the empty plate of strawberries you’d cut up and grabbing the container of unsliced ones to make up some more.

switching focus back to the eggs, you scrambled them up and shook the pan around, ensuring a more even cook.

then, thing one and thing two came jogging downstairs in a full fledged conversation at the top of their lungs

“no, no. i totally kicked your a- ooh, fruit,�� he went to grab a piece of strawberry, earning a slap on the hand.

you spun around, spatula drawn like a sword at his face

“zegras, if you touch my food, this spatula is going down your throat.” his eyes went wide for a second, index finger pointing to your utensil and slowly lowering it down

“i liked you better yesterday,” he grinned, winking and grabbing an apple from the fridge, tossing one to alex. “touchy, this morning.” he grumbled under his breath as you glared at jack

“come on, man. you’re gonna get my top gun privileges revoked. again,” jack got up to put his plate away, shoving trevor’s shoulder on the way by.

“i like that that’s what you’re worried about, that’s really cool of you, j.” you rolled your eyes once more, finally greeting alex with a ruffle of his hair.

then finally, after the string of hockey boys coming down to steal your breakfast, each adorned with bottomless pits for stomachs- luke made his way back to the kitchen. he was now in a hoodie and swim shorts, his hair wet from his shower.

“could you finish up plating everything, lu? your brothers stole our original plates so i’m running a little behind,” you smiled sarcastically as the two eldest waved to you

luke chuckled, nodding and taking your place in front of the stove.

while you changed, he finished cutting up the fruit, he put whatever spreads you’d taken out on the toast, and he split the eggs.

when he was done, he turned to see his brothers, along with trevor, alex and cole- who came down as you went back up, staring at him.

he turned his shoulders inward, suddenly a little too self aware.

“.. what?” quinn grinned, cole coming to pat him on the back as he made his own meal.

“look who finally got the girl,” trevor teased, alex wiggling his eyebrows after taking a bite of his apple.

he furrowed his eyebrows, looking at jack who nodded in confirmation.

“i got the girl?” he asked softly, arms falling to his sides, slightly limp in his state of shock.

“yeah, you did.” you smiled from the entrance to the kitchen, coming up and massaging his shoulder a little.

“you are no fun,” you pointed at quinn, who raised his hands in defence.

“what? why?” luke asked, looking down at you with his head tilted adorably.

“i was gonna mess with you just a little longer. wanted you to admit it,” you grinned, hand on his abs

he smiled a little, pecking your lips.

you tugged at him, grabbing your plate and nodding to his.

“c’mon, now.” you pulled him towards to patio door.

the boys whistled after the two of you and you giggled, looking back to see jack with a proud, almost bashful smile. his favourite people, this’d mean a lot to him even if he never said it.

to save face, the last thing you heard from him on your way out of the back was ‘wear protection!’

you shook your head with a smile, turning to luke now that you couldn’t be seen.

“my lukey,” you murmured, cupping his face and kissing him softly, still more intense now that there wasn’t an audience.

he nodded into your kiss, returning the favour with a hint of desperation.

“my girl,”

[riordanness]

— say don’t go - [tmr!newt]

wordcount: 0.9K

warnings: uh- you have the flare

requested: no

We’d been running for… how long? It felt like forever. Days and days of scorching heat, oppressive sunlight, harsh winds. My throat feels dry all the time, my eyes ache, and my legs are rubber.

At least I have Newt. No one could ask for a better friend. He’s always there for me, right beside me no matter what. He gives me the water even though I know he must be just as thirsty as I am.

He makes sure he’s the one carrying the pack we’re supposed to be sharing; he’s always taking my turns.

How can I tell him I know I’m not immune? That the cranks scratched me back in that old warehouse a few days ago? The weight of knowing my days are dissolving in front of my eyes is so heavy I can barely breathe. What should I do? What does anyone do, knowing you’re about to die?

I know I have to tell him soon. I can’t keep putting it off — it’s killing me in more ways than one.

Minho calls for a stop hours after nightfall. I have lost complete track of time; too lazy to keep track with my wristwatch. My head is fuzzy enough as it is.

Newt glances at me, and gives me a weak smile. I try to return it, but I can’t. I collapse to the ground, my knees giving way after one too many hours of walking.

Newt is at my side in an instant. “Are you alright?”

I try to nod my head. “Just… tired. Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He holds out our shared water bottle. There’s barely a gulp left in the bottom.

I shake my head. “You take it. I had it last.”

“No.” Newt is serious. “You need it more than I do. Besides…” He hesitates, but doesn’t continue. I’m too scared to ask what he means.

I eventually give it and take the water, the few semi-cold drops helping immensely. I feel my body shutting down, my eyes trying to close.

Newt shifts over to sit beside me. “Go to sleep, love.”

I don’t even try to stay awake. I lean against him and am instantly in darkness.

The next thing I know, I’m startled awake. I don’t know why, as it’s still pretty dark, the air is still cool, and none of the boys have stirred. I wonder briefly if a sound in the night woke me, but I see and hear nothing.

It’s probably just the growing anxiety and disease taking over my brain. I inch away from Newt, desperate not to wake him. He’s been doing so much for me, for everyone. I owe him my life ten times over, and I don’t want to disturb maybe the last peaceful sleep he may get.

I get to my feet, and my eyes stray to Newt’s sleeping face. I have a ridiculous urge to touch his cheek. He looks so soft and pretty and perfect, just laying there.

I force myself to turn around. I walk a minute, until I stumble across a little boulder and sit down, my chin in my hands. This illness inside of me is eating me up. I can feel myself fading away, everything that makes me me slowly dissolve into nothing.

I don’t know how long I sit there, despairing.

Eventually, someone approaches. I can tell by the slightly uneven footsteps who it is even before they speak.

“Hey, Newt.” I have no emotion in my voice, struggling to keep it even.

“Y/n,” he replies, gently sitting beside me. “What’s up, love?”

I shrug. “Nothin’.”

Even though it’s too dark to tell properly, I know he’s got his you-are-such-a-bad-liar face on. “Y/n.”

I sigh. “Okay. Fine. I—“ But the words die in my throat. I can’t seem to find the right way to tell the boy I love more than anything that I’m about to, well, die.

“You have the bloody Flare.” The anger in Newt’s voice takes me by surprise more than the fact that he knows.

“What—“

He slams his hand into the rock we’re sitting on, cutting me off. “It’s not fair!” He hisses. “We have to fix this, we have to—I cant, lose you—“

His voice cracks, and I hear him inhale sharply, like he’s trying not to cry.

That makes me break down. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I sob. “I just—I didn’t want… I don’t know. I just don’t want this.”

“Nobody shuckin’ wants the Flare, Y/n.” Newt’s voice is gruff, but almost teasing, a little reminder of what we used to be together. Joking, teasing best friends.

That makes me break down completely, and I cry heartbrokenly into my hands. I feel Newt wrap his arms around me, pulling me into his chest. I cry into him, clinging to his shirt like it’s my life.

“Newt,” I manage. “I’m going to die.”

“No you’re not.” His tone is firm. “I’m not gonna lose you. I—I love you, ya dumb shank.”

“What…?” My tears come to a hiccuping stop, and I lift my head to look at him. “You…”

He lets out an embarrassed chuckle. “Yeah. Sorry. Bad timing?”

I shake my head, a smile on my face despite it all. “I love you too, idiot.”

“Oh,” Newt laughs. “Oh, okay. Good.”

I lean towards him, pressing a kiss to his mouth. “Just hold me, please? Help me forget for a while.”

And Newt does exactly that.

[unemployedhockeyfan]

Not All Breakups Are Equal Pt. 2

Summary: Lando and Eloise deal with the fallout of their friendship after Eloise left Lando standing in his Monaco apartment.

Warnings: angst I guess and I'm pretty sure just one swear word

Notes: Hi! Thanks for the support on part one!! Sorry it took a few days for this part. I write for my adult job, too, so sometimes I'm just a little too worn out to write after work.

[2.33k]

Part 1

The days in New York are easy. Daily life is just fast enough that I don’t even have the opportunity to think of the friendship breakup that’s constantly trying to pull at my heart. 

Days are nothing compared to nights. 

New York has seemingly earned its title of “The City That Never Sleeps.” I wish I could say it’s because I make my nights as fast paced as my days, but that would be one of the biggest lies I’ve ever told — second only to all the years I told myself I didn’t love Lando… At least not that way. 

My nights are filled with little to no sleep as I toss and turn in the bed squished into the tiny hotel room. All that fills my brain is his smile, his laugh and the look on his face as I walked out the door of his apartment. 

I never want to forget the smile or the laugh, but that last look is one I wish wasn’t burned into my brain. 

It’s been three weeks since I last saw or talked to Lando. He’s since won his first race in Formula 1. 

A race I wasn’t there for. 

I was supposed to be. I had a pass and in all honesty, I could’ve still shown up. If I did, though, I would’ve fallen back into the same pattern as before. The people-pleasing nature of my personality would’ve come out and I would’ve continued to let Lando’s new girlfriend talk ill about me. 

My mind was overflowing with the memories I had of watching Lando celebrate in Miami while I sat 1,200 miles north. I knew I wasn’t going to sleep tonight. At least not anymore than the three hours I had already barely managed. 

As I rolled over to grab my phone off the nightstand, the cheap digital clock was shining 3:30 a.m. 

“Hm, Max is probably up by now. I can call him,” was the initial thought that crossed my mind. 

Max wasn’t necessarily thrilled when he found out that my plane ticket landed me across the Atlantic Ocean, but he got over it relatively quickly when he found out I had friends from university in the area. 

It took a while, but the line finally connected, welcoming me to one of the most comforting voices in my life. 

“Eloise, long time no hear.”

“Yeah, sorry ‘bout that. I’ve been busy.”

“Really? Or are you just lying to me?” Max always seemed to be able to read my mind, no matter how much I wished he couldn’t.

“It’s a half lie. The days have been busy, the nights are just restless.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

The silence lasted for a few moments too long. It allowed Max just enough time to steer the conversation in a direction I was trying to avoid. 

“He misses you, Elle.”

“I saw his win in Miami. He looked happy. I couldn’t help but watch.”

“He wanted you there.”

I know Max is telling the truth. He has no reason to lie, and I know that truthfully Lando didn’t want me to leave his apartment just over a month ago, but I did. 

“You should call him, not me.”

“It depends, Max” 

“On what? Whether or not he’s broken up with his girlfriend?”

“Actually, exactly that.”

“I thought you told him you were OK if they were dating as long as she was nicer to you,” Max pushed back. 

“I am, I just don’t think she’s capable of changing in just a few weeks.” 

My voice was getting louder and I didn’t really want to take my anger out on Max. He hadn’t done anything wrong — maybe just pushed the wrong button or two. 

We sat in silence, the only noise being our breathing on either end of the line. It lasted well over a minute before I let out an exaggerated sigh. I was not only going to come clean to Max, but to myself as well. 

“Max, it's just… It’s hard and it hurts,” I said as my eyes slowly started to leak fresh tears. 

“I know, Eloise, I know. I don’t think anyone is expecting it to be easy for you or for him.”

“No, Max, I don’t just mean distancing myself from him. It’s hard to even be around him nowadays when I see how he treats other girls when all I want is for him to treat me that way.”

The pause in the conversation was deafening. With the phone pressed to my ear, I waited for Max to say something, to say anything. 

“Max?”

“Well, it’s about time you admitted it to yourself,” he said with a rather large chuckle.

“Stop, this isn’t funny.”

I was laughing too, though. I couldn’t stop. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or the fact that for the first time in a month I felt comfortable in my surroundings, but I laughed for a good three minutes before Max’s voice finally came through again. 

“You sure do laugh a lot for someone who thinks this isn’t funny!”

“Can’t help it right now.”

“I mean, I am pretty funny,” Max said with an audible smug look on his face.

“Yeah, yeah, well, looks aren’t everything.”

“Good one, Elle. I’m going to hang up on you so you have to call him.”

“I’m not going to, I need more time. Plus, he’s in Montreal right now, it’s 3:30 for him, too, and I’d imagine he’s asleep.”

“You’re stubborn, you know that, right?”

“Hm, I learned it from you.”

“Get some sleep, Eloise. Love you.”

“Love you, too, Maxy. And, I promise, I’ll call him eventually.”

It was nearly two months later before I decided it was finally time to talk to Lando again. Of course, by that point, I was well past sleep deprived between restless nights in New York and changing time zones as I returned home to the United Kingdom. 

With my brain barely functioning, I decided the best bet would be to not call Lando, but show up in Austria at his next race. I had all the passes I needed to show up thanks to both myself and Lando thinking this falling out was never going to happen. 

I managed to avoid all the areas I knew Lando would be during the days leading up to Sunday. I saw and anxiously watched as Lando raced Max for the lead. I sat and nearly cried as I watched Lando’s race come to an end just laps shy of yet another podium. 

Lando is hard on himself. He holds himself to a level that’s nearly impossible to reach, and I know his mood after this race will be anything but stellar. He’s bound to be angry, and I start to fear what his reaction will be if he sees me. 

As I stand lost and confused in the paddock, I hear my name being called by maybe one of the few people who could make me smile at this moment. 

“Eloise! Elle, is that you?”

I whip my head around to see a smiling Daniel Ricciardo jogging my way. Before I could even respond, I’m wrapped in the embrace of one of my favorite members of the F1 world. 

“What are you doing here? Does Lando know?”

“I’m assuming he’s clued you in on what’s happened?”

“Just a little, don’t know all the details.” 

“Um, yeah, well he doesn’t know I’m here. Really, I don’t even know why I’m here. I should probably leave. There was part of me that wanted to talk to him, but after everything that’s gone on just today, it’s probably best I make myself just disappear. I don’t want to make this any worse than it probably already is for him.”

“Eloise, you’re rambling.”

I couldn’t help it, I was nervous. I was standing in front of one of Lando’s former teammates and just steps away from the McLaren garage. 

“Do you want me to call him and get him down here? I really don’t think you off all people could make this moment worse for him”

“Uh, yeah, sure. Call him.”

Lando must’ve answered quickly, but it seemed to take some convincing from the Aussie to lure Lando out of his driver’s room. Eventually the word was that he was on his way down. 

I wouldn’t let Daniel leave. I couldn’t let Daniel leave. Just over a minute after Daniel had hung up the phone, I heard a voice that I’d been missing for months. 

The voice was so calming on the ears that I had a physical reaction to it. Everything seemed to calm down around me the second the first word came stumbling from Lando’s mouth. 

“What’s up, Daniel? Really just not in the mood right now.”

He didn’t respond. Daniel just stepped out of the way, revealing me to the man who still held so much of my soul. 

“Hey, Lan.” 

The tension was palpable. Lando and I stood there staring at one another as Daniel slowly disappeared to likely return to his own driver’s room. I didn’t want to say anything until he responded, but I was scared that if I waited for him, it would be silent for hours. 

“Sorry for just showing up and not calling. For some reason it seemed easier to jump on a plane than it did to pick up the phone.” 

“You’re here? In Austria? You’re here, really here? I went back home, I called and nothing. Now, you’re just here?”

“Lan, I’m sorry. I needed space. I just didn’t know the best way to come back.”

I could tell Lando was trying to not get angry. His body language becomes so easy to read after knowing him for years.

His hand ran through the curls on his head after rubbing his face almost too hard. 

“Um, let’s just go to my driver’s room. We probably shouldn’t have this conversation in public.” 

The walk to his room was awkward. There were eyes glancing at us and some whispers, too. I knew it had been awhile since I had been at one of these, but this surely wasn’t the reaction I was expecting. 

“Listen, Eloise, I’m not mad. I’m just confused. You left me in my apartment and then disappeared for months with nothing from you. I had to rely on Max to at least know you were alive.”

Lando took a seat on his makeshift bed after making room next to him for me to sit. 

“I know, Lando. I can only imagine how much it hurt you for me to leave, but I had to protect myself. I was hurting so much.”

“I never wanted to hurt you.”

Lando was crying. With the events that had already unfolded today, this really wasn’t the best time for this conversation, but it didn’t look like I could avoid it any longer. 

“Lan, I know you didn’t want to hurt me.” 

Before I could stop myself, I was wiping the tears that were starting to spill from his eyes. He looked so vulnerable at this moment. 

“And, really, Lando, I don’t think I ever really felt hurt by you. I just wanted you to hear me and it felt like you were blinded by some love.” 

“It wasn’t love. It was lust or some shit like that. It just definitely wasn’t love.”

I’m not sure how I was really supposed to take that revelation. Was he still seeing her? Was it still too new that he was just describing it as lust?

My confusion must’ve been evident on my face because before I could utter a response, Lando was talking again. He was talking to me as he slowly grabbed both of my hands in his, running his thumbs over the back of them. 

“She’s gone. She’s not in the picture anymore. The day after you left, Max and I had a heart-to-heart. Really, he kind of laid into me and wouldn’t stop. He kept saying that some fling was never going to be worth what you meant to me — what you mean to me.”

It was my turn to start crying. The tears didn’t flow as fast as they did the night I walked out of his apartment, but they were there. Lando quickly pulled me into his chest, placing a needed kiss on my temple. 

“Eloise, I will spend every day for the rest of my life apologizing for allowing her to say those things about you.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” my voice slightly muffled but my head in his chest. 

As I leaned back, I grabbed his hands once again and looked him in the eyes — those eyes that have held me captive since I was 13. 

“Why didn’t you come find me after you broke it off with her? Max isn’t that strong, he would’ve told you where I was in a heartbeat if he knew it was over.”

“I knew where you were. I knew you were tucked away in a crummy New York hotel room. I just wanted to give you space. Telling you she was gone would’ve just rushed you, and I didn’t want to do that.”

“You really do surprise me sometimes, Lando Norris. Can we go back to being friends again? I can’t do life without you in it.”

“About that…”

About what? What could Lando possibly want to say to me? I thought this conversation was going well, I thought it was oddly healing in a way. Was he about to push me out the door this time? 

“I don’t know if we can be friends again, Eloise.”

Oh my god this really is it. Our friendship is ending. After months of me not letting it die in my brain as I took my own space, Lando Norris was about to shatter my heart into a million unrecoverable pieces. 

“We can’t be friends because it’s not OK for friends to love one another the way I love you.”

“Wait, what?”

[lovlive]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ midnight insomnia' - c.yj

SYNOPSIS - its the middle of the night and you have 2 problems; no.1 you cant sleep, and no.2 you miss your boyfriend. PAIRING - choi yeonjun x f!reader GENRE - fluff, established relationship WARNINGS - reader is depicted with a pink colour, reader is called ‘baby’ and ‘girlfriend’, just yeonjun and y/n being really cute with eachother <3 requested from anon: hi! i dont think you've posted yet, maybe your busy or just dont know what to write about since your a new blog, but i want to put in a req.. could you do reader x yeonjun with the prompt “i can’t sleep, come to my bed” id actually die AAH im so curious what you could turn this into, thanks :}

notes: thanku sm for the req! yeah, i havent been writing yet since my brain was blank tbh i had no ideas for a fanfic in mind 😭😭 but now youve added fuel to my fire and ill try start writing more often :3 (and yes, the 127 in the fic was on purpose)

The moon cast a soft glow through the small sliver between your curtains, painting the room in hues of silver. In the quiet of the night, you tossed and turned under your soft blanket, unable to find solace in slumber. As you battled with your insomnia, you just couldnt keep your mind off of one thing; Yeonjun. You couldnt stop thinking about the way he would hold you through these chilly early-spring nights, and how much you missed his warm body next to yours. At this point you’ve realised just how starved you were from him despite only seeing him a couple of days ago.

You gave up on your slumber, rolling like a log from one side of your bed to another to pick up your phone. The sharp glow from the screen hit your eyes, your face instinctively scrunching up since you werent used to the brightness. Your fingers lazily glided over to the message app icon, and then tapped on Yeonjun’s contact. The time at the side of the screen caught your eye, and your realised it was 1:27 AM. You were a little weary of texting your boyfriend at this late hour; you knew that he was probably tired after a long day of practicing and you didnt want to seem selfish or too clingy. But you shook off your bad feelings since you knew that Yeonjun wasnt the type to be able to fall asleep easily either. You began to type your messages…

“jjunieeee..”

“baby… ☹️”

As expected, Yeonjun was of course awake. Your one word messages were opened by him a minute later. He looked at the texts, a little confused on why you’d be texting him right now. Any how, he started typing back.

“y/n? why’re you still up. you better not be up to some weird shi 😐”

“jjunie, i cant sleep. come to my bed.”

“baby, its half 1 in the morning.”

“please..😔 i really cant sleep and i need sum1 by my side 😞”

“y/n you’re going to be the death of me... but what wouldnt i do for my beautiful girlfriend”

“ill be there in 5”

“yippee! 😇 i love you ❤️”

“love you more baby ❤️”

Your face lit up as your boyfriend agreed to come over. You immediately put your phone back on your side table and plugged it back into charging, then quickly tossed the dirty socks that were lying on your bedroom floor underneath your bed to appear a little tidier. After a little while, you could hear a quiet knock echo through your small apartment; your face lighting up once again. Your feet quickly brought you to your hallway, where you rummaged your drawer for your keys. Eventually finding them, you jammed the correct key into the keyhole, twisiting it and gently opening the door. As your boyfriend appears from behind the door, you immediately pull him into a hug, shutting the door behind him. “Whats up with you today?” He teases as he feels your arms lock around him tightly, wrapping his arms around your waist in response. “Just missed you baby.” You responded, taking in his soft scent which you missed badly. “Y/n, we just saw eachother a few days ago..” His chuckle landed right in your ear, warm breath brushing right up against your ear. The sensation of course did not fail to make you blush a little. “Yeah, but ‘just a few days ago’ feels like an eternity to me.” You whisper into his shoulder, finding comfort in just burrying your face in his shoulder and hiding from the world. You feel his hands come away from your waist and up to your back, rubbing small circles. “You really arent a patient person, are you? Now, lets get you to bed.” He whispers as he takes your hand in his and begins to lead you over to your bedroom. You obviously dont resist, and grip his hand back as you walk behind him. None of you made a sound as you walked to your bedroom. Both of your social batteries were drained from the long day you’ve survived today, and all you wanted to do was to hold eachother in peace as you tried to fall back into a slumber.

You walk into your bedroom, and Yeonjun leads you straight to your bed. He lets you crawl in and under the covers as he takes off his jacket and throws it onto the chair you have by your desk. He came just wearing his pajamas, since he knew all you were going to do together was snuggle and sleep. He climbs onto your bed, arms wrapping tightly around your body as your face hides in his chest. His hand runs through your soft hair in a consoling manner, trying to get you to feel more tired and sleepy. His hands work like magic, your eyes beginning to feel heavier by the minute. But before you fall asleep, you give his hand a gentle squeeze and manage to whisper a set of three familiar words.

“I love you.”

[iwannascreameurekaa]

pjo characters as quotes from my classmates, parents, siblings, and grandparents.

Yipee

Will: "does anybody need the heim-ill-ick?”

Hazel (prob to Nico): “i’ve never smoked… EVER. and if you smoke, i’ll hit you.”

Percy: “he looks like a street person?”

Leo: “i thought i got salt and pepper, turns out it was salt and salt.”

Piper: “i’ve never been attached to a cat.”  

Hazel: “The power of INTERNET👹”

Frank: “that was rude.” 

Percy: “every cat that doesn’t have a tail is named bobby.”

Piper: “just put your coins in your bucket.”

Jason: “if i was barbie, my feet would hurt all the time”

Nico: “it’s giving me skin cancer as we speak.”

Hazel: “she told me to give her when i die so i thought i might as well give it to her now.”

Piper: “did you steal my brush again? quit stealing my brush you little brush thief!”

Percy: “you’ve got 4 of grandma!”

Leo: “i’m a heavy drinker today” *takes a sip of his fourth glass of water*

Annabeth: “you squeezed her so hard she dropped a cheerio.” 

Leo: “and thoust asked if Jason was a cracker(a white person) and Jason replied”no i’m at least 2 or 3 whole crackers since there’s quite a bit more of me than you”

Hazel: "ohhhh my goodness don’t put your feet in her face.”

Leo talking about Piper: "she is a luddite, against technology, close with the Amish community."

Piper looking Leo and Jason directly in the eyes: “no dying allowed in here”

Percy after TOA: “if somebody wants to steal my car, i want them to steal it! not come in my house, shoot me, take my keys, and then take the car. LET ME SLEEP I DONT CARE!”

Will: “me and Nico go on dates to funeral homes”

Hazel: “you have a problem with a joint?” She was talking about her elbow 😭

Leo: “if i get hungry, rats will get skinned.”

Piper: “if this truck goes any slower it’ll have to put out a mailbox.”

Annabeth: “oh you stepped on the cow? well it’s better than the cow stepping on you”

Frank: “and it just sucked the carpet right up”

Hazel "back in my day" Levesque: “i had a lot of beagles when i was young, and finally i had one that lived.”

Leo: “are you looking for regular markies?”

Jason: “i’m gonna go to work tomorrow with a hangover.”

Will: “i’m not very artistic(autistic)”

Jason: “i never added salt to the pepper”

Piper: “keep your toes to yourself”

Piper: “you guys are an embarrassment.”

Jason: "can you pass the salt? i like my stuff salty”

Will: "The only Christian song I know is let it go" 

Context for the next one: my friend had a slick back high pony tail when we had this conversation so that gives you a visual of what Piper was

Leo "what's your next album gonna be called?"

Piper: "'my hair is straighter than my friend'."

Leo: 😦

Piper: "What in the gay man!"

Hazel: "If you stop being a karen then maybe you would actually be successful at life"

Piper: "You should start day dreaming about getting a husband"

Annabeth: "George Washington is the off brand version of me"

Hazel: "Ideas were such good ideas they became the symbol for ideas"

Leo: "did you mean lightbulbs"

Hazel: "..... yes"

Piper: "There's a fly on your butt" *waves at it and it flies away* "that's not your property sir"

Leo: "Yeah you gotta pay for that"

Nico: "Does he have a speech impediment?" 

Will: "He has a brain impediment"

Jason: "I bet he was having Funtime"

Piper: "why do you always say Funtime"

Jason: "I'm not saying sex!"

Leo prob to his tool belt: *suggestive voice* "give me that minty mint"

Leo to Hazel, who doesn't know what any modern slang means: "check it homeslice"

Hazel: "the gambling may run in the family, but at least pokers fun!"

Leo: "im a turkey... cock cock!"

that's all I have rn lmao

[lemon-russ]

The sapphic spirit possesed me and I just can't stop thinking about big gold muscle mommies today. Inspired by? Learned about the idea of? Aquillian Shield Custodes from This post by @moodymisty which has been in my brain. Then I was like, gasp, it could be g a y. Going to be multi-part bc I can't seem to rush smut and need sapphic pining first I guess.

Thank you @squishyowl for the divider!

Tags: @bispecsual @ms--lobotomy

Emperor's Saint (Pt. 1)

Pt. 2

Fem!Custodes x Fem!Reader

CW: GAY, SUPER SAPPHIC GAY

Summary: A diplomat of the Ultramarines, you've been chosen to receive the protection of an Aquillian Shield. Congratulations! you do not have a choice :)

Word count: 1,994

She appeared out of nowhere while you were preparing to leave for a meeting one day.

Nearly as tall as a primarch, golden armor shining, carrying an intricately decorated spear. She told you she was your Aquilian sheild, and you have been deemed important enough to need guarding. She would not say how long, or what you were meant to do, only that she was going to be hanging around 24/7 watching you until you completed whatever you were meant to accomplish.

Lord Guilliman said it was an honor to have one of the Adeptus Custodes personally guard you, so you tried to go about business as usual.

Heraclast, as she introduced herself, became your constant companion. Constant.

“Hera…” you groan tiredly, sitting up in your bed. “Must you guard me from in here…?” You ask. She’s polishing her helmet, her chin length warm brown hair falling around her face on the side that wasn’t shaved short. She looks up at you, pursing her lips.

“Of course, my Lady. What if dangers came to you while you sleep and are most vulnerable?” She says.

You pout. “Don’t you sleep…?” You ask. She insisted on staying with you while you were on this new planet to have your meeting, but you can’t fall asleep with her watching you. It made you, well, shy. Having a nine foot tall goddess of a warrior watching you snore? Emperor forbid you talk in your sleep.

She shakes her head, “No, my Lady. I can go weeks or months without sleep and perform perfectly.” She says, going back to polishing her gleaming pointy helmet.

Great.

You sigh and lay down, starting at the ceiling. You glance back over at her, sitting on a bed that is straining under the weight of her armor. Her face has a long scar from chin to hairline, and her eyes are so green they are almost luminescent in the dimly lit room. Or maybe they are? Who knows, Custodes were an enigma. Hardly seen outside the Palace until Guilliman returned, and more rare to see out of helmet, let alone armor. Their genetic modifications were even more intricate than their Astartes cousins, so Emperor only knows if they actually have glow in the dark eyes to go with their stunningly perfect looks.

You turn your gaze back to the ceiling, trying to not get hypnotized by how her hands look carefully polishing the gold. You definitely should not be thinking about those hands anywhere else. Especially not on you. Or under your nightgown. Which you had to change into with her in the room, which did not help any of this.

“My Lady?” Heraclast asks, making you jump a little as you’re pulled from your thoughts. “Your face has become feverish. Are you ill? I can vox for the best apothecaries to be here in under an hour-” she offers.

“No!” You interupt, blushing more. “No- I’m fine, I’m not sick.” You say tiredly, covering your face with a pillow.

She is quiet a moment, then you hear her go back to polishing, the rhythmic sound acting like white noise and helping you relax slightly. You pull the pillow off your face, rolling on your side to face her, trying to not look like you’re staring.

She glances up again, brow knit. “…Would my Lady sleep better if I sat over there, facing away?” She asks.

You blush, but think about it. She at least wouldn’t be staring you down that way. You nod a little, and she smiles, pulling over stool and sitting back down in front of your bed, back to you. You relax a bit not being directly in her sight, and then try not to think about how close she now sits. You stare at her back, partially covered by the purple cape of an Aquillian Shield, and try not to imagine what she looks like under it.

You squeeze your eyes shut and focus on the sound of her polishing, and eventually finally fall asleep.

The next morning you yawn, stretch, and then open your eyes and nearly jump out of bed. Heraclast looks up at you, confused. You look back at her, face burning red. She’s half armored, chest plate and shoulder armor removed and sitting sparkling and polished on the bed.

“My Lady? Are you well?” She asks, turning to you more and making you more flustered. She only has a tight wrap covering her chest, her sculpted abs and arms uncovered. You notice more than a few scars, one on the stomach looks like it was especially bothersome, but try and look away.

“I- I thought Custodes d-didn’t take their armor off-” you stammer out.

She tilts her head a little. “You are safe, my Lady, do not worry. I secured the area thoroughly before undressing, and only have been polishing a couple pieces at a time. Even without all my armor I am more than capable of protecting you-”

“Okay, Okay” you stop her, trying to look anywhere but at her tanned, toned abs, and why are they wet?? Her undercut was also damp, and in your desperate attempt to avoid her you see a wash bucket and cloth and realize she must have bathed. Which makes you even more flustered to imagine.

She frowns a bit, and your heart actually palpitates when you accidentally meet her emerald eyes again, full of concern now. She thankfully pulls on a tight silk shirt and starts re-fastening her chest armor.

“You really look unwell, my Lady. If you are feverish we should get you to the Apothecary.” She says, voice worried.

You frown, expression tight as you watch the way her arm muscles roll and flex as she lifts the heavy plates of armor and starts putting them back on. You swallow hard and will your breath to be even.

“I’m f-fine, really.” You say with a sigh, rubbing your hot face with your hands.

She looks unconvinced, but finishes armoring anyways. She steps into the next room briefly and brings you a wash tub, cloth, and soap. “Very well. I took the liberty of fetching you some cleaning supplies when I got my own.” She says with a smile, walking back to the other bed and sitting on it with a creak.

You frown, looking between the bucket and Heraclast. She looks unperturbed.

“Hera, I can’t wash with you looking at me.” You squeak out.

She frowns. “Why not?” She asks, looking genuinely confused. You frown deeper.

She scrunches her brow and purses her lips. “…Very well, I shall turn away if that helps you, my Lady.” She says, sounding confused but turning to the wall anyways.

Throne damned Custodes, haven’t been outside a palace in 10,000 years and forgot about things like human shame about naked bodies. Or maybe that is just something that was erased with their transformations. You sigh and start undressing as little as possible while still being able to wash.

After a minute Heraclast speaks up again, “Oh, today you have that meeting, yes? Shall I help you with your hair? I am quite skilled at braids from helping the other Custodians-” she says happily, turning a bit to look at you.

You yelp and cover your chest. She frowns and turns back. “Ah, yes, apologies.” She says, scratching her hair. “It is nudity you don’t want me to see, then? I will try and keep that in mind, though I don’t understand why you would hide the majesty of the human form-”

”Hera please” you groan, going back to washing.

She lets out a small “hmph.” But continues looking at the wall.

You sigh and finish up, washing as quickly as you can, then kneel down to wash your hair. “You can look now…” you grumble, dipping your hair forward in the bucket and scrubbing.

She happily turns back to you. “As I was saying, I am very good at intricate braids, If you would like. Many of my battle siblings keep long hair and braid it into crowns.” She says, moving to a stool near you to sit closer.

You glance up at her, smiling down at you, sun from the window sparkling off the intricate jewels and filigree on her armor. She looks so excited to help. You gulp.

“…Sure, why not.” You relent, rinsing your hair.

She beams, pulling her stool over to you and grabbing a towel and hairbrush from nearby. “Excellent, I think you shall make a grand impression on these important nobles with your hair orderly.” She says in a chipper tone.

She picks you up under the arms, making you squeak in surprise, and plops you on a pillow on the ground in front of her facing away, between her legs. Your face grows warm again as she starts to towel off your hair for you, humming happily. *By the throne you weigh nothing to her, she just picked you up like a stuffed animal*- No, don’t think about how easily she can toss you around, stop getting flustered, you chide yourself.

She starts carefully but efficiently detangling and brushing your hair, the feeling of the brush on your scalp and her playing with your hair sending a shiver down your spine.

“Hmph. Now you have chills to go with your fever.” She says with concern. “It is alright if you need to rest today, my Lady, I will not allow them to give you trouble about it.”

You try and focus hard on a plant across the room, “I’m fine.” You force out as she starts running her un-gauntleted fingers over your scalp, catching locks of hair and gently tugging them into braids.

She hums another unconvinced noise but doesn’t press you farther. She is quick with her braiding, fingers grazing your neck and shoulders as she works, the gentle touches making you get goosebumps. You start counting the leaves on the plant to occupy your mind and not just melt into a puddle on the floor.

“You have very well kept hair, my Lady. I’ve never been one to keep it long myself, gets in the way of my helmet, but I appreciate my Custodes siblings who do keep long hair. I’ve always admired the look of it on others.” She chatted happily.

You bite your lip. She likes long hair on others? She likes your hair? Does she think you’re- No, stop being ridiculous, you’re pretty sure Custodes can’t even feel attraction. Probably. If they did, they have all the other Custodes to be attracted to anyway, literally the most beautiful of humanity regardless of gender.

She runs her hands over your hair again before patting your shoulder and making a satisfied hmph. “There, all done.” She said, handing you a mirror.

You take it and your eyes go wide. She’s given you perfectly smooth, intricate braids forming a crown around your head, one even making a little flower shape over your ear, and the rest of your hair free and down, neatly brushed to not have a hair out of place.

“Wow.” You say, looking at her in the mirror as she smiles down over your head. “This is amazing, Hera.” You say, smiling at her reflection.

She beams proudly. “I am glad you enjoy it. Come, you should dress, your gowns have many complex layers.” She says, patting your shoulder again before she stands. “I must go do my bi-hourly parimeter scan, I expect to be finished in 6 and a half minutes. I know you dislike being seen unclothed, so you have that time to dress to a comfortable level.” She says, donning her helmet and picking up her spear.

You blink in surprise as she walks out, then scramble to start getting dressed.

[azulcrescent]

Hi Azul! :) I started following your silly scribbles about a year ago, and seeing Cheryl model how she came out to her friends and family in the comic helped me articulate my gender experience better with my wife and even come out to my friends and family. Thanks for sharing your art! I also wanted to say that I'm sorry that you're experiencing poor sleep and burnout lately. :( Those can make you feel awful. I've had a chronic illness for the past six years -- and I'm fully aware that's something separate, nor do I want to equate it with your experiences -- but, at risk of giving any unsolicited advice, I do wish someone had said something to me about this when I first felt those as well. Because I was pushing myself to work for 2 hours a day as a special education paraprofessional in a wheelchair due to fatigue and systemic dysfunctions throughout my body -- so I had to quit my job since I was making my health even worse. When I stopped working, I was fully bed bound for a time but even still kept pushing myself to attempt grad school online despite only being able to sit up for 5-10% of the day. My point is that, even when our bodies are burnt out, we still push ourselves because that's generally just our human nature to do. And I wish that during that time someone had gently said it's okay to slow everything down and listen to what my body was telling me it needed.

With slowing down, I also get that finances are a thing, and I wouldn't have been able to recover from severe to moderate ME/CFS without my wife working her butt off for us to cover medical expenses by switching jobs and upskilling. (She jokes that she has no more butt anymore because of those years :'(... )

So, although this is stepping into unsolicited advice, but as someone who was burnt out and constantly eepy for years, I feel like it would be remiss of me to not try to say something and just give a bullet point list of free things that helped my nervous system not be so overstimulated and tired but wired that I couldn't sleep and even when I did it was unrefreshing and yucky to wake up the next day:

•Search for "ally boothroyd yoga nidra" on YouTube and pick a 10 minute video •Do belly breathing to expand the diaphragm (one of the few ways we can give input to our parasympathetic nervous systems -- the rest, digest, and heal system) •When breathing, breathe in for 4, hold for 4, out for 4, hold for 4, repeat to tell your body it can be calm •Spinal flossing in bed: start from your lowest vertebrae you can, try to isolate it with your muscles, and shift it up down left and right, then go up to the next one •Listen to how your body responds to foods: maybe try cutting out gluten and refined sugars for a week to see if it helps in any way; a lot of our immune system is in the gut, and being in a stressed state can cause our immune systems to mistake food molecules for pathogens which then activates the immune system and turns off the parasympathetic nervous system •Drop your jaw fully open like you're going to yawn, then stretch your tongue upward outside your mouth as far as it can go and stretch it around. This is a stretch for the muscles near your vagus nerve near your ear/neck behind the jaw to help them relax •Plan a bedtime routine for the thirty minutes before you go to bed and be consistent •Brain retraining: When you feel stressed or anxious about sleep or being burnt out, compassionately tell yourself "Stop, stop, stop." Thank that part of you for bringing up its concern, then remind that part of yourself that it doesn't need to worry anymore because you are working on recovering and healing. And if the insomnia or fatigue do happen, you have plans for what to do and will be okay. •Remember the conclusion from the American TV show Mythbusters: https://www.tumblr.com/gretchensinister/678474387179077632/one-of-the-most-life-changing-things-i-ever You're still getting rest even if you just close your eyes. You've talked about having ADHD, and while I don't have it, I get that it messes up brain chemicals and can contribute to both insomnia and burn out. There might be a reddit discussion that speaks to you better about medications or deficiencies. I hope you get to rest. Cheering for you. It's always fun to see your art. Thanks for what you do! :) Sleepy cat tax:

Glad to hear you like my comics! And thank you for the very informative and helpful info on sleeping better! Ill try to put your advice to use!

[tripthelightfandomtastic]

not exactly wild for this wednesday; but i love how jake always looks sleepy.

imagine him coming home later than usual from the studio, especially grumpy considering he also didn’t get much sleep last night (oh so dreaded night owl tendencies, and a constantly musical brain). he sighs and takes off his shoes and coat the second he comes through the door, the air smelling of his favorite warm meal of yours. and when you meet him at the kitchen door with a small smile and open arms, he practically melts on you, humming and hiding his face into your neck.

“long day, sweet boy?” you’d mutter, and he’d sigh (both tired, and absolutely smitten for you)

“would you visit me in jail if i committed just a little bit of manslaughter?” he mumbles, but can’t help the small smile that grows on his face at your giggle

“maybe, i think you’d look hot with some jail tattoos” you run a hand through his hair to push it off his face, while the other one holds his cheek sweetly. jake closes his eyes with an almost purr. “will some casserole and a glass of wine keep your murderous tendencies at bay?”

he smiles, and nods with a yawn. you run your thumbs lightly over the dark bags under his eyes and kiss the tip of his nose. “take a seat, our glasses are already poured. ill fix our plates”

you set his plate in front of him, with warm bread next to it “hopefully its good enough to at least save danny from you. you know i love my daniel” he chuckles into his glass and squeezes your bum lovingly

“you know damn well danny wasn’t the problem” he grumbles. “i’ll become the problem if i have to listen sam and josh bitch at each other over a 5 word sentence again”

you smile into your glass and squeeze his arm, tracing the scar on it lovingly. “im sorry that it wasn’t a productive day, love”

it was fine, really. jake knew that he was just too tired, he probably would’ve bitched about a sentence too if he had the energy.

a warm full belly and a fuzzy wine feeling are enough to make jake’s eyes drop apparently, as he startled awake at the movement of your chair and the clanking of plates. he streches and shakes his head “no, no, let me” a yawn interrupts him “you made dinner, ill do the dishes”

you chuckle, and settle the plates in the sink. “id like you to not fall asleep on the sink and drown, thank you very much” you kiss his cheek, and smile at the soft blush that his face always betrays him with when you baby him, and pull on his arm “you and i are going to bed, after brushing our teeth and doing our skincare, of course. unfortunately we don’t stay this youthful and pretty on wine and casserole”

jake could have a hundred bad days, but in one night, you could wash them all away.

WHEN IS IT MY TURN!??!

[paeries]

Sick of You — h.s.

[when a boyfriend of two years breaks it off and offers a new arrangement, of course you’ll take it up. this is your prime chance to prove him wrong. and Harry can’t bear to watch it]

word count; 9k

pairing; harry x reader

cw; friends to lovers au, smut, angst, im just saying my heart hurts for him

pov; y/n, but third person

[part two is here, part three is here, thank you for all the patience. im really excited for you guys xx]

She laid in her bed, blankets completely surrounding her as she tried to pay attention to the movie she had put on. She had everything she needed to enjoy her time by herself, really she did. But she felt like someone was stepping on her chest. Her heart felt like it had just been emptied out into the insides of her body. Just empty, throbbing, screaming. She was sure she’d gone through about three movies now, frantically searching for something, anything else to think about. She pulled her blanket up a bit further and glanced at her phone again. 1:24am. Had I really been staring at the wall for an hour and a half straight?

     She groaned and sunk deeper into the bed, pulling the pillow around her. I don’t even know what I was waiting for? Her alarm? The sun? Her eyelids starting to shut on their own? A text, you idiot. Remember? You’re hoping his date went shitty and she got too drunk and puked all over him. You were expecting him to be disappointed, send a message and ask for you to make up for it if he came over.  She grumbled, feeling whatever was going on in her chest expand and she felt her eyes prick with wetness. Y/N tried to shake her head, bury her fists into her eye sockets and beg the tears to go away. Tried to tell her brain, I’m fine, I’ll be just fine in the morning. I just needed some sleep. ”I need more wine.” She grumbled to herself, grabbing the bottle and tipping it upside down to swallow every drop of the last gulp. 

 

               At least you’re good for something. 

  

      That was what did it. That’s what sent her springing up off the bed and running to the bathroom to lurch over the toilet and empty her guts out. Over and over, till her body was too weak to hurl enough of anything, really, up and out of there. 

     He’s having a great time. He won’t need you much longer. It’s been over and you’re still a love sick puppy, fawning over his every move and hoping he miraculously realises that he made a mistake. That he didn’t mean any of what he said. 

     Y/N hung her head, defeated. Laying her forehead against the rim of the toilet, she sniffled and shook her head. “I should’ve pressed harder. I should’ve fought him a bit more.”

    You should’ve erased his number and ignored that text. You knew he didn’t want you anymore, just the pleasure you brought him. 

     She let out a cry, finally. Beating her fists off the porcelain tiles, she shouted as she cried. Letting her body crumple on the floor, she curled up, clutching her chest as she did, and cried and cried. 

She woke up the next morning, her head pounding, freezing from the coolness of the tiles. Had I really fallen asleep on the floor? She pulled herself up, took a pitiful look at her horrific appearance and shuddered.  She looked wrecked.

She pinched her brows together with one hand and reached over to turn the shower on, convincing herself that if she can at least manage to look better than she felt, maybe she could shake this nagging, nasty, haunting feeling. 

    About midway through her shower, she could hear someone moving about her apartment. Quickly finishing up but careful to leave the water on, just in case it was a burglar, or a murderer. She peered around the corner and felt as if last night was a dream. Because there he was, bopping around at 8 in the morning with coffees and a brown paper bag, as if he owned the place. “Excuse me?” She huffed out, blinking at him in disbelief. 

      Wonder what he’d think if he knew you’d spent the night on the bathroom floor ill, think he’d be so nonchalant? 

      She shook her head and stepped back to turn the shower off, wrapping a towel around her body before ducking into the room to dress herself. “You’re excused.” He mumbled to himself, snickering as he did so. As if he was so funny. “I brought some breakfast. You don’t take care of yourself.” He nodded to the state of her apartment, setting the to-go cups down on the kitchen table and tossed the paper bag next to them. “So, get dressed. Or don’t. Might save me the time.” He smirked. What the fuck does he know, ‘You don’t take care of yourself.’ What would he know about any of it? 

At least you’re good for something. 

     Her stomach lurched, and she managed to swallow whatever urge to run back to the bathroom and hide. She walked out of the room, pulling a t-shirt on and a pair of mens briefs with socks, wrapping her hair in a towelled turban to meet him in the kitchen. “What are you doing here?” Y/N snipped, taking the coffee and finding her seat. “Were you not listening?” He asked, leaning with his back  against the doorway. She stayed quiet, trying her best not to make his gaze before daring to open her mouth again, “How’d your date go?” She managed out before taking a good sip. 

     Mark’s eyes narrowed a bit, suspiciously at her. Because how did she know?  “It was great. She was fun.” He muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. “Did you really car-“ “Not really.” She interjected, “Just small talk. Since you didn’t answer my original question.” He sighed, swallowing before clearing his throat and straightening up. ''Well, if you want the truth-” He started and then paused, almost as if he was begging her to not let him finish. “She stayed the night..” He tested, watching her closely. She could feel his eyes burning holes into her shoulder blades. “And I thought I’d pop out and grab us something quick to eat while she slept but-” She coughed hoarsely and turned to look at him over her shoulder. “She was gone when you got back.” She finished, pulling the towel out of her hair and setting it on the back of a chair.

     Good. That’s what you get. 

    “Her coffee is good.” She admitted while shaking her head feeling nothing but pity for herself as she stood up to find a hairbrush. “I actually don’t know her order, I ordered what I thought you would.” He admitted, stepping across to open the paper bag to reveal two muffins as she made her way back to the kitchen while brushing her wet hair. “There’s a blueberry cobbler style and a blackberry cheesecake style. Thought it’s interesting enough to try.” He had been hoping that would take off the heat from the embarrassment of his good gesture to a one night stand. To someone else. “I’ve never heard of any muffin cheesecake.” She muttered, hesitantly reaching over to grab the blackberry speckled looking muffin. 

     Why am I eating a breakfast so hopefully meant for someone else who must have blown his mind when I can tell him to leave?

     “D’you get drunk last night?” Mark asked, pulling her from her thoughts and sending her into a frantic search for an explanation of the four wine bottles that laid on the floor. “Had some girlfriends over, s’all.” She said quickly, picking at the muffin in front of her. “Four bottles of wine?” He retorted, tutting a little bit. “Surprised they aren’t still strewn all over the floor. S’8:41 in the morning..” He added, seemingly having no clue it was all her. And granted it wasn’t four full bottles… It was two full ones and two half drank. “Yeah, well, they stopped drinking before I did- Don’t you have somewhere better to be?” She added in quickly, grabbing the coffee and looked directly at him. Her jaw clenched tightly as she watched his body uncomfortably shift where he stood. “Guess I could find something..” He said after a decently long pause, “Y’welcome, by the way-“ He chuckled, stepping out the door before she could shout back, “Hey,  fuck you!”  The door shutting right afterwards. She whimpered slightly, gritting her teeth together as she stared at the picked apart muffins that he left. For someone else. She threw the coffee into the sink and turned around, making a beeline for her phone and typing out, 

     “Come over.” Sent, Delivered. Read 8:49am

  Within twenty minutes or so, the front door was flung open and with four long strides, she had been tossed over his shoulder and carried into the bedroom.

Y/N had just enough time to change her briefs into a sweeter cotton thong with a strawberry embroidered at the top in front.  “Wait! Wait!” She laughed out, “You have to shut the front door!” She shrieked, her body now tossed to the bed, bouncing as she landed.

Watching him jog back to shut the door, she thought about the differences between the two men. Harry didn’t make the room feel as though the oxygen was being sucked up, like Mark did. She couldn’t breathe when he was around lately. Harry was more comfortable, and she'd be lying if she were to say she didn’t find herself wishing to have never met Mark to avoid this whole mess. She really wished it was Harry that gave her difficulty to breathe.

“Tha’ any better?” He asked, hands waiting at the door handle of her bedroom for her confirmation. “Much.” She laughed, rolling her eyes and sat up straight in her bed waiting to receive him again. 

He shut the door and came over to the bed, bringing his hand up to tuck a stray hair up and behind the curve of her ear. “Tickles.” She mumbled, hooking her fingers into the loops of his jeans. “Y’gonna help me or what?” Y/N huffed, tilting her head to the side as she challenged him. He raised a brow and lifted his hand to place at her chest to push her back against the bed. “Yeh, I’ll help y’” He mumbled, pushing her shirt up her ribcage, peppering kisses here and there.

She stared up at the ceiling while bringing her hand to the back of his head, aimlessly swiping her thumb across the short hair that laid at the nape of his neck. She couldn’t stop thinking about Mark and Harry, Harry and Mark… Harry… “Harry…” She mumbled, squirming in her place on the bed. Harry groaned, digging his hips into the mattress before slowly lifting his head, eyebrows furrowed with concern once he saw her expression. “Y’okay?” He asked, sitting up a bit. No matter how turned on he could get, her wavering voice brought him back to earth. “S’the matter?”

She swallowed and shook her head, “N-nothing, I- I just,” Her voice trailing off as tears began to prick at her eyes again. Harry reached up and cupped her cheek, leaning over to press a kiss to her forehead. “S’alright, we’ll get y’straightened out.” He muttered with distaste in his tone of voice.

     She sat up to pull her shirt off, shivering as she felt his hands sneak up to touch a nipple, nipping at the skin under her belly button. “H-'' She warned, giggling breathlessly, “Y’know that’s ticklish.” He gave a quiet hum and nodded, “Couldn't help m’self. It’s just too easy, pet.”

The coyness in his voice sparked an annoyance she couldn’t place. It held the same sarcastic, ‘i know it all’ tinge as Mark’s did when he was strolling about her kitchen.  She huffed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Do I have to do this myself?” She sniped, “Could get m’self off without all this fuss much faster y’know?” Harry's gentle eyes quickly hardened as he now glared at her, bringing his hand up and around her throat, laying her back down against the bed. Her breath hitched in her throat as he applied some pressure, almost immediately regretting her choice of action. “Let’s be clear, shall we? Nothing that you do, or anyone else for that matter, to your body,” He trailed off, his tongue darting out over his lips as he looked at the girl's smaller frame underneath him. “Could ever, ever, amount to what I can do.” He murmured into her ear, releasing his grip around her throat before sponging kisses down her neck. “Wouldn’t you agree?” He hummed, taking a more sensitive part of her neck gently between his teeth to earn a moan from her lips.

 He hadn’t meant to get so possessive, but he was tired of not getting the recognition he felt he deserves. There was no way Mark had ever taken the time to know her body in the way he has. 

She nodded quickly, rolling her hips up to meet his, “Yes." She breathed out, moving a hand into his hair to tug at. She was getting impatient, the slow side of him wasn’t what she needed. She needed him deep, hard and quick.

“Harry, please” She whined out, groaning in frustration as he pinned her hips back to the bed. He chuckled against her, letting his teeth graze over her nipple before lifting his head. “S’the matter, Y/N?” He mused, raising his brows in mock sympathy, trailing a hand down to duck into the front of her panties. “I’ve had y’wetter than this before, m’sure of it.” He muttered to himself, sliding his fingers through her folds before circling once around her clit, causing her to gasp and lift her hips up at the sudden contact. “No! M’ready, Harry, please.” She begged, squeezing her eyes shut from the anticipation. “Not quite, pet- Open your eyes.” He ordered, taking them both by surprise. He had been too focused on the sounds his fingers were making as they slid through her to notice her eyes closing. He liked to know she saw that it was him, not Mark. All him. 

Y/N whined again and lifted her head, wriggling her hips. “Fuck, H. Please?” She begged again, bringing her hand up to cup his leaking cock through his boxers. His hips spluttered forward and he swore under his breath before swiftly changing his position on the bed to get between her legs to tug her panties off. 

Peeking up from where he lies to catch her line of sight, Harry stuck his tongue out slowly towards her clit, stopping just before he made contact. With pupils dilated, a pout graced across her face and cheeks flushed, Harry could have come right then if he hadn’t been so driven to making his point clear. Kissing at her thigh once, he flattened his tongue out and rolled her clit beneath it slowly. Far too languid for Y/N because now she can’t even lean into his mouth, but has to take the brush and nip of his teeth against her until he granted enough mercy to find her clit again and move a little faster.

Harry hears her begin to pant, quick and shallow, and the sighs and whimpers that are begging for him to ‘Please, fuck me, Harry' He smiled, tightening his grip around her hips, “M’getting there, sweetheart. Want you drenched by the time m’finished.” He reasons, cock twitching when she lets out a desperate groan. Harry ignored the small and desperate cries of frustration, drawing back to watch her wriggle and whine for his touch. He hummed, bringing his middle finger closer to slip into her cunt and felt his lips spreading into a grin at the moans that erupted from her chest as he found her g-spot. Before long, he found himself biting down harshly on his lip as he watched his finger dip in and out so easily that he added another, stretching her out a little more. He loved how messy she could get for him in hardly any time at all. “Relax.” She heard him say calmly, though his mind is a frantic mess of filthy thoughts about how he planned to fuck her anyway she’d let him. Desperate for her to realise who she was to him. He’d never tire of hearing her sweet moans, the way she begged for him to touch her. And every time he found out she went back to him, he would swear to himself, he’d find a way to make her forget about him. He wanted to be unforgettable, like it seemed that Mark was. Who, really didn't have the most fun hobbies, or good humour, didn't mesh well with the group; he wasn't even that intelligent in his opinion. So he couldn’t, for the life of him, figure out what was soo special about him. They’ve all hung out, and Harry tried. He really tried to pinpoint what was so incredible about him in her mind. He’d have to top him somehow, something that reminded her of him had to creep into her thoughts at night. He wanted her as restless as he was without her at night. He wanted her to figure out that he was her safe place. 

When she went quiet, his stomach burned hot enough to pull him out of his thoughts, he knew she was close. He let out a groan, burying his face into her thigh to muffle most of it before turning back to lull her clit back around his tongue. Sucking on it in sharp little movements, he reaffirmed his left arms grip around her thigh to keep her in place. “Harry!” She gasped out, as he pulled his fingers out so he could wrap his hand around his weeping cock, aching for any form of attention and hissed against her when he felt it. He was leaking and it was filthy, so filthy and Harry couldn't stop himself from gruffly nipping at her clit. “Come for me, pet.” He mumbled as he moved his hand from around his cock to preserve himself, moans muffled against her and even more so when her thighs closed around his head and she pressed up into his mouth. She’s coming and the thought of it has Harry rolling his hips into the mattress harder. 

“Fuck sake-” He growled, pushing himself upright to hook his arms under her legs to pull her closer. He took a long look at her body, returning a hand to his angry red cock to try and curb his lust a while longer. He wasn’t done teasing her. “It made her feel important, it’s like extra attention,” she told him one night. 

“Proper mess down here, babe.” He tutted, backing up as her hips lifted to meet his. “Now, now, now, y’still comin down, aren’t you? S’quite sensitive, innit” He mused, tapping the head of his cock against her swollen clit. She gasped, lifting her hips up again. “Seeee?” He hummed, mocking her. “Please, Harry. M’empty.” She whined, and that was it. “Okay, ‘lright, she wants filled.” He hummed as he loomed over her, tucking his head against hers while he lined up, gently nudging past her folds to slip in. “Jesus Chr-” He groaned, his hand finding its way into her hair to tug. “Fucked right in, didn’t I?” He mumbled, sliding his hand to cradle her neck by the hairline, which was irritatingly soft, as he pulled out slowly and tried his best to ignore her protests; “I was full!” She’d gasp out, infuriated that he had taken it away just as quickly. “Fuck sake, doll. Patience.” He rasp out as he pushed right back into the wet heat. “Y’hear that, baby? S’how wet I’ll get you everytime, isn’t it?.” He mused, straightening up and tugged her body up higher to meet his hips, allowing himself to slide just a bit deeper. Deep enough to coax another broken gasp from her mouth. “Tell me how good this is.” He breathed out, before delivering some quick thrusts, his hips pistoning into her. A filthy sloshing sound filled the air from how wet she was. “Fuck!” She gasped out, arching her back up. “Oh my god, Harry. S’good, s’deep, j-just what I wanted.” She whimpered, squeaking as he bottomed out at her admission. She whined in confusion, before choking on a breath when he rolled his hips, grinding into her cunt. The broken moan he finally let out as her walls fluttered around him, squeezing around his cock, could put a priest to shame. She always wrung out the most lewd noises from his body. “My God, you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned, “You feel so fucking good, Y/N, squeezin' me li' tha'.” He all but whimpered, leaning back to properly start fucking her, the way he knows has her seeing stars, her legs shaking, her breathing laboured. 

Louder, and louder she got, gripping onto his forearms with her nails dug in as deep as they could go, trying desperately to hold on in the position he had her in. His long body upright, hands holding her hips up high off the bed so he could make sure he hit his target each time. Her shaking legs wrapped around his, she was struggling under the pleasure. “S’a fuckin’ sight t’see, baby. You’re so bloody beautiful.” He said, taking her hand away from under his arm to bring it to his mouth, sponging kisses at her fingers and wrist. “Takin’ my cock so well.” He sighed, letting her hand go and lowered her hips back down before hovering over her shaking body, placing her thumb at the corner of her mouth. What he did not prepare for, was her tongue to slide out around it to bring into her mouth and suck at. Harry’s jaw dropped, his lips parted as his hips lost their rhythm for a few thrusts. “Look a’ tha’.” He gasped out, just as she let out another delicious moan, “Harry, m’close.” She slurred around his thumb, some drool running down his wrist. “Dirty lit’l minx, come f’me.” He growled, feeling her tighten completely around him. “Give it to me, ‘ve worked for it” He breathed, snapping his hips up harder as she cried out, rolling her hips messily to his just trying to ride it out. “Tha’s my good girl.” Harry cooed, doing his best to help her get the most of her orgasm before losing his self control entirely, burying himself to the hilt as he came. Falling forward on top of her, he felt the coiling in his belly unwind. He sighed, listening to her breathing soften and slow. “Proud of m’self for that one.” He laughed out. And he was, she was satiated, and he got to have a bit more of her for one more day.

     Harry's soft breath hit the top of her shoulder, his body on top of hers with the duvet cover strewn between his legs. Taking a deep breath, she felt most of the stress and anxiety of Mark's pop-in drift away. Shifting to find a comfortable spot against the bed while underneath the warmth of his body. “I don’t think I thank you enough.” She mumbled, tucking her forehead into the crook of his neck. “Think you thank me just fine.” He smirked, lifting up onto his elbows. “Up y’get, sweetheart.” He grumbled, pulling them both up, him standing to pull his boxers back on. “H, would you grab me a shirt from my second drawer down, please?”  She asked, the covers pulled up to her chest with one hand, the other running a hand through her messy hair.

She watched as he grabbed a shirt, unfolded it to see what it looked like in full before tossing it her way. “Like that one.” He snickered, climbing back into the bed. “Know y’don’t wanna talk about it. But…” He started, causing her to groan as she pulled the shirt over her head. “Oh christ,” She whined, laying back down and pulled the covers over her face. “C’mon, I never ever ask!” He laughed, tugging the covers to reveal her eyes which only earned him a grumble of disagreement. After a brief pause (during which she realised he wouldn't give in anytime soon), she rolled her eyes and hastily blurted out, “He went on a date last night, and in the morning, I was showering and he showed up, breakfast in hand. Tells me it was originally for the girl he went out with and fucked, only, come to find out she slipped out while he was at the shop,” She paused, drawing another breath but speaking a bit slower. Not particularly liking the way her tongue had formed around them. Like tasting metal. “aaand brought it to me instead.” She murmured, swallowing thickly, “Like it was a good thing.” Laying it all out in summary had her feeling more embarrassed by the second. Harry groaned, shaking his head. “Why’d’y’ put up with it? Why don’t you just- block his number?” His voice going a bit softer towards the end before he sighed, knowing exactly why.

She stayed quiet, looking back up to the ceiling. “Wouldn’t you? Put up with it?” She asked, her voice barely above a whisper. She felt shame come over her, like a cloud across the sun. 

     Harry sighed again, rolling onto his back to look at the ceiling too. I do, put up with it. He thought, his eyes scanning the ceiling for a good answer. “Don’t think you’d have to, had he given you the chance to move on.” He muttered, almost angrily. “Wasn’t right of ‘im. T’break things off and then ask the next night for a quick fuck.” He huffed, propping himself up on his elbows again. 

     Y/N sighed and nodded, “I know..” A few minutes went by before she shook her head, desperate to change the subject. “Look, can we just watch something?” She mumbled, pulling the duvet up over her waist. “Yeah… yeah sure.” Harry said, reaching over for the remote to turn the tv on. “Found something that might be good the other night. Saved it to watch it with you.” He snickered, coaxing a smile out of her. “I can’t wait.” She hummed, turning to her side to curl up against him. His arm snaked around her waist, his head tilted to rest against hers and he took a deep breath. For the next two hours, they just laid there. I really should thank him more often, she thought.

      “Listen, not that I wouldn’t love to stay longer, I just promised m’mum I’d take her out for dinner.” He said once the movie was over, leaning over to kiss her forehead again. “Y’okay?” He asked again, and she smiled, propping herself up as well.

“Because I can manage another fifteen minutes before I need to shower, change and pick her up.” He added, his eyebrows straightening into a line to show the severity of what he was saying. “I’ll be available until about 4, we usually do a bit of catching up- probably bout an hour or so, y’know what- I’ll just text you.” He laughed. “Yeah, I’ll manage.” She hummed, tilting her head slightly to the side. “Call me, anytime. Mean it.” He said, standing to get himself dressed, Y/N standing as well to walk him out. 

“G’on.” She snickered, leaning up to kiss his cheek before he stepped out of the flat, shutting the door behind him. She sighed, reaching up hesitantly to lock the door, before taking another pitiful look at the picked apart muffin that still sat on that table. Mocking me. She scoffed before going back to her room to repeat the night prior. 

She’d always been used to being alone, just not lonely. She had friends, sure, and good friends at that. But they’ve all got so much going on, she couldn’t imagine bringing her little broken heart to the table and try to put it up there with Jodie’s, who’s unsure where she’s going to get the extra 5k to keep her dead mothers house from going to the bank. It just wasn’t right. 

     You’ve got all day, miss thing. Best find something to do with it. 

She glanced at the time again, and took a look around her apartment.  The bottles, the empty cigarette packs on any windowsill you look at, chinese takeout boxes, the dishes, the bottles. Groaning at the thought of doing all that, she let her body fall back into the chair in the living room. 

Pinching her brows together, she let out a frustrated sigh, “I see you, just let me gather herself.” She said to herself, and only when she moved her hand from her eyes did they land on a small little jar and its green contents on the coffee table. Perfect. Blunt time. 

 Once she got a small little blunt rolled up, she put some music on and sat on her bedroom windowsill, grabbing a lighter to take a drag. While making sure to blow it out the cracked open window, she peered down to the streets below. A cold breeze came across her nose, reminding her that the seasons changed once again. A colder fall meets eastern England with a ferocity, signalling a chilling winter to come. Couples walked through the streets to make their dinner reservations, or ‘first daters’ even, chatting as they window shop. She always loved watching the world around her operate.  Sighing yet again as she reminded herself that she was supposed to finish cleaning, she sat up, leaving the blunt on the ashtray a second to get to tidying the bed up. Smoking always puts her in a better mood. A nice distraction, she thought as she set the pillows and blankets back into place. She crept over to pick the blunt up and take another hit before pushing it into the ashtray to snub the cherry. “Christ, what time is it?” She said aloud, deciding to dig around for her nightstands clock that had been knocked to the ground. Finding it and setting it back in place, she was thankful that 6pm was here. She had gotten the apartment tidied, she was high as hell. There was no trace of anything Mark to be seen. Like he’d never been here so early. I wonder if he was sad. Upset that he’d put himself out there and assumed she’d stay for breakfast. She didn’t see how different it could be with hi- She cringed to herself and shook her head, trying to shake the train of thought away. She didn’t want to go back down the road, try to find out where exactly it went wrong. He left. He’s no different than the rest. And what’s worse, he takes advantage of the fact. He knows how you feel. 

The streets were alive and well, lit with streetlights, some storefront lighting, and car headlights. Daring a glance over at her liquor cabinet, she grabbed her phone and called some friends to get together for drinks in her newly cleaned apartment in order to carpool together to the bar.

Jodie arrived first, her best girl, Cade trailing just a bit behind her, “Daphne’s on the way, she said she had a last minute outfit change.” Jodie explained, leaning in for a kiss on the cheek as she handed over her gift of liquor for the night. “S’always vodka with you.” Y/N grinned, heading to the kitchen to get some mixers. 

“Harry’s out with his mum but he said he’d meet us there.” She nodded in acknowledgement to Cade who was reading what she assumed to be Harry’s response in the groupchat, bringing out cups and ice. Cade was fairly new to the group, but a welcomed one at that. They had lost Julie and Chris to a new move up country, which was a huge blow to their outings for a while. Cade filled the gap seamlessly, he was hysterical, dependable, not to mention outlandish. Cade had never been one to back down from a challenge, and seemed to be crushing heavily on Jodie for a while, so if by tonight they were to get a little more familiar with one another, Y/N wouldn't complain.

Daphne came trailing in not long after them, setting her coat in the closet before greeting us all. “So sorry, had it all figured out, but- you know, the lighting in the bar wouldn’t have worked the correct magic. Had to change.” She explained, beaming ear to ear as she made her way into the apartment, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Everyone knew that whatever Daphne put on, a burlap sack, aluminium foil, a fucking bedsheet, she looked gorgeous. She had a million dollar smile, a sense of humour, honey blonde hair, olive coloured skin and an incredible body. And if we’re being truthful, her and Harry would be the obvious match. Their physical appearances complimented the other so effortlessly. They’d even been caught in a drunken makeout once before, back when Harry first joined the group.  Nevertheless, Daphne was the secret weapon. The three of them together were like a wet dream turned nightmare. And though Y/N’s friendship with Daphne wasn’t as close as with Jodie, she still held a significant spot in her life. They’d all known each other since university, just kids. Daphne had an atrocious haircut and didn’t know how to dress her body to save her life. Jodie was so smart and shy, it wasn’t until Mike came around their senior year where she learned to assert herself and let loose. Y/N, herself, was just happy with her two girls. She never looked elsewhere. They’d go to parties and end up back at one of our dorms, trashed and giggly. What else was there? 

Looking at them together now, you’d never guess how reserved they used to be in their younger days.

By the time they ordered the Uber, they had all worked up a pretty nasty buzz which made it quite difficult to figure out where they had ended up leaving our phones, wallets, keys, etc. Poor Cade did his best to wrangle the girls together and keep track of all the belongings, but to no avail. He’d have to try again next time. “I saw yours in the bathroom, Jod.” Daphne giggled out, lifting up Y/N’s phone and frowning before handing it to her. “Why’s Harry texting you? Can he not make it?” She asked, a pout clear on her lips. 

“Uhhh, dunno- let’s see.” Y/N opened her phone to check the message, ‘Dropping mum off now. See you in 30. Xx’ she repeated out loud for her even though Daphne had already peered over her shoulder. “He texts you a lot.” She states, pursing her lips and opening them again before Jodie interrupted, “Got yours, Daph!” She shouts, grinning and Y/N has to send her a look of relief because she was not prepared to break Daphne’s drunk heart tonight. She had always had the suspicion she still liked him, and if the look on her face didn’t cement that, what would?

Y/N’s phone rang in the middle of her conversation about Cade’s poor choice of beer as the four sat at a booth, “M’gonna go get a real drink. Be right back.” She smiled, lifting the phone to her ear as she walked away. “Hello?” “What are you doing tonight?” His voice slid across the speaker like cashmere. Y/N swallowed thickly, pressing her finger to her ear to drown out the outside noise. “I’m busy.” She shouted over the music, then rolled her eyes. He had to have heard the music. He’s not stupid. 

“Y’don’t have to yell.” He laughed, “C’mon ditch it. We’re callin’ it a night, so… Come over.” He drawled out. Great, he’s drunk. “No, thank you.” Y/N hummed, having already snuck into the bathroom where it was a bit quieter. “And why not?” He huffed, and just from knowing him, she could tell that his jaw dropped, his fingers tapping against whatever was nearest. “Because,” She paused, fixing a few fly aways while looking at her reflection in the mirror.  “I’m having more fun here.” She giggled before hanging up, and dug into her purse to grab a comb she had brought. 

Her phone rings again, and she felt the satisfaction begin to creep its way into her. This must be what it feels like for him. She cleared her throat and picked up the drink she had set down on the sink. “Hello?” She sang, making sure to jostle her drink that was now more ice than liquid. “I need another drink, so, hurry-“ She added, smirking at herself in the mirror and wrapped her lips around the straw to suck the last bits of alcohol left. “Wh’dya’ mean you’re having more fun?!” He huffed, as if it was unimaginable to him. Y/N scoffed, topping up her lip colour before turning on her heel to go back out to the bar. “Just what I said.” She hummed, “I’m hanging up now,” She whispered before hearing a slew of small half-minded minor threats, asking her not to hang up, ‘wait, wait, wait!’, She ignored them all, giggling out a ‘good night’ before hanging up again and leaving the bathroom. Finding her way through to the bar and grabbed herself two more drinks before making it towards the back where her friends had sat.

Thankfully, Harry had got out of his date with his mum just in time to meet them at The Stumble. And she was semi-glad he did. Well, very glad. He helped in a lot of ways. And he was just nice in general to be around. Harry smiled at the sight of her, opening an arm to invite her back into the circle.

 “Daph’s just getting around to tellin’ us her big secret.” He hummed, his eyes lingering just a litttttllleee too long at her body. He couldn’t help it. And he did try. But his eyes just found their way to her every time. Good God, she looked amazing. A black half mesh/half satin dress that was somehow modest and managed to leave a bit to the imagination, some sort of strapped black heels that snaked their way up her legs, a softened reddish lipstick. Honestly, out of a dream. Once, of course, he realised her attention had been taken away by Daphne,(who (he thought) was getting around to telling everyone about her job’s promotion) he felt he could look at Y/N as long as he needed. He knew Mark wasn’t stupid. He’d figure out how special she was, and how truly stupid he was to have let her slip through his fingers. How fucking lucky he was- To have had her. Really have her. And sure, he had her too. As close as he could muster, he had her, for now. He answered her calls, day or night, 1am, 2am, 3am, cor. 3am was probably his favourite time. She was so sleepy, so hurt, she had just wanted company. And Harry liked to think she wanted his company. Just thinking about how he had thrown it away? Like, garbage? How fucking dumb he is to- Harry’s jaw clenched so hard it began to cramp, and the hand he didn’t know that was laid across the small of her back had found its way around her hips, gripping the far side of her waist tightly, causing her to yelp and turn around. “S’the matter w’you?” She laughed out, her hand delicately holding the straw in place with two fingers as she brought her lips around it for a sip with her other hand. Those, fucking lips. He cleared his throat and shook his head, “Lost m'balance- Liquor must’ve hit me.” He laughed, “S’hot in here, gonna pop outside for a smoke.” Harry nodded, gently patting her back as he slid past her.

      He could feel his ears ringing, like smoke was coming out of them. He’d really like to tell Mark just what a total degenerate he had been, but, it may knock too much sense into him. And he’d never have Y/N again. He needed some more time. You can’t do that, she’s hurt enough. She’ll just have to wisen up. And then Mark won’t have the chance. 

    Finally, the cool air hit Harry’s face, his hands scrambling through his pockets for his pack and a lighter. 

     The first drag was all he needed, just to turn his brain around. With a sigh, he blew out the smoke, leaning his body against the side of the bar’s building. He watched people pass, people scoot past him to get inside the bar. He watched a small family walk up to a newly parked food truck. Kinda late for food trucks, innit. He thought to himself, raising his hand for another drag and immediately felt a comforting and familiar hand at his shoulder. Y/N. 

      “Wh’y’ doin out here?” He asked, looking down at her. She had to be a little cold. Mind you, shes again only wearing her slim dress, the damn strappy snaky heels- No jacket. As always. “You’ll freeze.” He muttered, pulling his off to drape around her shoulders. “Thank you, Harry, but I’m alright. Just checking on you.” She said warily, knowing full well that he hardly ever would leave in the middle of someone’s proud moment to go smoke. That just wasn’t like him. “Are you upset Daphne’s moving?” She asked, reaching for his cigarette to take a drag of her own. Moving? “Er- yeah, I mean-“ He stuttered, unable to recover. His stupid brain was still fixated on her lips. “Because there’s a train that connects right to our station- and she said she’d be here any and every time she could manage. She said she couldn’t stay away from you too long.” Y/N nodded, a hopeful glimmer in her eye. Harry furrowed his eyebrows at her, “She- what?” Now he was so confused. “Daphne’s like- in love, with you Harry. You really never knew?” Y/N laughed out, and it sort of pissed Harry off. Like it was so obvious for her to see that someone else was in love with him, but not see that he was in love with her. Of course he never knew, because he’s been so busy trying to soothe Y/N and get her to see what was in front of her. Course he wasn’t worried about, Daphne, of all things. “No, I didn’t know-“ He almost snapped, irritated with it all now. “Oh my God, Harry! She drools!” Y/N giggled out, shaking her head and finishing off her drink. “Never stops looking at you, and! She glares at me when we’re talking.” Harry could tell by how her eyes began to glaze over that she was feeling the effects of her drink. Realising, it wasn’t fair to get angry with her. “Drools, huh?” He managed out in a chuckle, his throat feeling tight, like he was swallowing nails. She nodded and hummed, “She saw our texts, Har. Should’ve seen her face, she really likes you.” She slurred a bit, leaning up to his ear, “I know I shouldn’t..” She started, humming a bit before she sighed out, “I can’t stop thinkin’ bout y’ kissing me.” She whispered, giggling at the end. Harry had to shut his eyes, squeeze them shut. In another world, Harry would’ve laid it on her, right then and there. No regard for the outside world around them. His hands made their way to the small of her back, briefly pulling her in closer. “Y/N…” He warned, “We’re supposed to be keeping it a secret.” He mumbled back, his mouth felt like it was bleeding. He wasn’t able to say anything that he wanted to. But, he would have a hard time forgiving himself if whatever was so bad about being with him had to be kept quiet and had come out. She’d never be back. Harry felt like he had the devil and the angel on either shoulder. The angel, reminding him how delicate she’d been lately, all the while in his left ear, he could hear the devil asking him to breathe her in. Because she did smell fantastic. She whined and tugged at his shirt, pouting a bit with a soft, “Why?” And Harry lost it. All sense was gone, he let out a frustrated growl of sorts and gave one gentle yank to her hair to tip her head back, causing her to yelp and smirk at him.  Why? Why indeed. In one second, Harry had pressed his lips to hers, backing her up against the building, his hands moving so fast. Too fast. Her cheeks, her hair, her waist, her ass. Christ, what a sweet little ass she had. Harry groaned into her mouth, licking at her lip like honey fell from it. Y/N giggled in response, hooking an arm around his neck, her hand at the back of it. He was revelling in the freedom he was feeling to publicly have her in his arms. Harry felt like his heart was beating out of his chest, and just as he was about to muster enough control to pull away from her, “What the fuck are you doing?” with a quick jerk away from the beautiful woman. Mark.

“So, you’re fucking Harry? Harry?!” Mark shouted, his breaths coming out short but forceful. He was pissed, thats for sure. Y/N glared at him, having to lean against the clubs bathroom sink after he dragged her inside.  “I don’t know why it’s any of your business.” she snapped, “We aren’t together anymore, that was your decision.” Mark's head snapped up at her, his eyes wide and his eyebrows furrowed, “That doesn’t mean I’d be alright with you and one of my good friends fucking?!” He shouted, pulling at his hair as if he was going insane. "I'd hardly call you guys friends." She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest, “And, forgive me if I never received the handbook on what to do if your ex breaks up with you but still wants to fuck, oh! And! fucks other girls only to bring you their breakfast the next morning!” She shouted back, furious at him. “I shouldn’t even be having this argument with you, because in what world did you think it would be okay to come to the bar I was at!” She asked, narrowing her eyes at him. If Harry hadn’t been there, and Mark had walked through that door while she was drunk? She knew he would’ve walked through that front door and all she’d be thinking of, was which girl he’d take home the whole night. It was fun for a second to give him a taste of his own medicine but he was much, much better at this than she was.

     Mark hadn’t stopped pacing, his fingernails practically embedding themselves into his palms due to how tightly he had his fists balled up. It took everything in him not to throw Harry in front of a moving car after he ripped him away from Y/N. Out of everything, not once did he expect to have walked up on…. whatever that was. He couldn’t believe that it was Harry that had his hands around her like that. “Okay, well,” He started, his eyes dancing around a minute, “If you had said you wanted to suck Harry’s cock tonight when I was on the phone with you, maybe,” He seethed, his voice dripping with anger, “I’d have gone home!” He growled out, unsure of what he wanted to do now. His pride had taken a major plummeting fall. Y/N. His heart throbbed, painfully in fact. “Oh,” She scoffed out, “Please, you’re lucky I answered the phone at all! It’s none, of your, business!” She repeated, leaning forward a bit as she did. Mark laughed incredulously, “That would have been better, Y/N. Because then you wouldn’t have tried to play your little cat and mouse game, get me to think you wanted me here, and we wouldn’t be here!” He shouted, his arms opening up to gesture to the space of the bathroom. 

“My cat and mouse game?!” She practically laughed out, leaning forward a bit. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Ever since you broke up with me, it’s been nothing but games! You ended it because all I was good for was a fuck! Don’t forget that.”  He went quiet, the only sound was the softened thump of the music from the club. Y/N swallowed thickly and straightened up, “Are you done?” She muttered, “Because I have some friends waiting on me.” 

Mark scoffed, shaking his head, “Yeah, think I am.” 

So off she went, without another look at him. She slipped around the corner and hurried off to the corner where her friends were at. “And where’s Harry?” Y/N asked, looking around and not seeing a particular set of eyes. She was beyond irritated and feeling the embarrassment creeping up on her. The way they all looked at her told her that they had seen, everything. She shuffled in her spot slightly before straightening up and grabbing her bag. “Y’ears not workin’? Something trapped in em’?  I said where the fuck is Harry?” She snapped, watching a few scramble for answers. “He-He never- he didnt-“ Cade stuttered, sighing in relief as Daphne finished for him, “He never came back in.” Y/N groaned before turning on her heel to head out as well. Poor Daphne. She began hurrying down the street to get away from the club as fast as possible, scrambling for her phone and immediately dialed out Harry’s number. No answer. 

   To: Harry 

      Where did you go?

      They saw everything. 

      I’m trying to call you, Harry, please. 

                  Read 9:57pm

   She tried his number, again, no answer.

    Finally flagging down a cab, she hopped in and gave his address without a second thought. The whole drive there, she went over the last twelve hours or so. She couldn't believe the way Mark was acting. Of all the dumbest, insulting things to do or say, showing up at random times. The fucking nerve. He knows how she feels, and yet, he uses it whenever his poor ego needs a pick me up. And then to embarrass her, and possibly Harry as well? Because he can’t stand to feel unimportant? 

    The driver came to a slow, rolling stop and she quickly paid the driver before hurrying up his driveway, to the steps to his apartment and began rapping her cold knuckles painfully against the door. Please be here. Please be here. Embarrassment washed over her again like a tidal wave. She felt awful, anxious, the whole bid. He could have a girl here. And then if he didn’t go home?  Who was she to assume she single-handedly ruined his night? His neighbours assume she’s on drugs and call the police- And then! Her drivers went and drove off- his neighbours think she’s crazy… Cor, Y/N. You’ve really thought this one out. Just brilliant.

As she turned to pull her phone from her pocket to call up another driver, she heard a jingle of house keys coming up the drive. Her head snaps up to see Harry, who was having a bit of trouble walking a straight line as he focused on looking at his keyring, trying to find the front door’s match. “Wh- Harry!” She breathed out, blinking in disbelief. Harry’s head snapped up, his eyebrows furrowed and grumbled a bit. “What’re y’doin’ ‘ere, Y/N?” He muttered sadly, trying to move around her but gently bumping into her shoulder instead as he made his way around. “Don’t think ‘ve got it in me t’help,” He hiccupped and tried to fit the key into the hole before starting again, “help y’out tonight.” He whimpered, resting his forehead against the door after struggling. Y/N frowned and hurried up the steps again, taking the keys from him. “Why didn’t you answer my calls?” She asked, fitting the key in and opening the door for him.

His shoulders slumped forward, grumbling his answer as he shuffled into his house. Choosing to ignore the drunken gibberish, she moved towards the kitchen to grab him a glass of water, watching as he fell backwards into his couch. 

As she turned the corner to set his glass down on the coffee table, he, again, muttered something she couldn’t understand. “What was that?” Y/N asked, sitting down next to him. He sighed and leaned forward, “Went to a, uh- different bar.” He breathed out, taking the glass of water for a sip. “F-for a few drinks, t’clear m’head.” His fingers tapped at the glass before lifting the glass to his lips again. “I-I shouldn’t ‘ve…” He sighed and shook his head firmly, ending his sentence there before continuing again. “Y’asked why I hadn’t err…. answered y’phone, or, my phone.” He grumbled, feeling frustrated he couldn’t get a good explanation for her. “I thought you were heading back wiv’im.” He whispered, chewing at the inside of his lip to stop himself from admitting anything else. “Harry, I came here to apologise. I embarrassed myself a-and, maybe even you, I'm just, I-I’m so sorry.” She sighed, shaking her head before feeling the weight of his head against her shoulder. “S’not,” another hiccup interrupted him, “S’not y’fault, Y/N.” He whispered, a slow yawn following suit, his full body weight now resting against her. She managed a half-smile as she began sliding to the side under his weight deciding to drop the topic for now and let her head fall to the throw cushion sitting at the corner of the sofa. His head fell onto her chest and he yawned again. “Could never stay mad at you f’long.” He mumbled, bringing his legs up to get comfier in his position. A smile crept its way across her lips, her hand finding a comfortable position at his hair. “S’not fair to you.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his forehead before leaning up to turn the lamp out. “You’re too good t'me, Harry.” She murmured, reaching for the throw blanket to spread over his body. His only response was to briefly squeeze her and it wasn’t long afterwards that she could hear his peaceful snoring.

[part II.] [part III.]

(a/n: its hereeeee!! i hope you all like it, this has been sitting in my google docs for literal yearrrssss as something I’d read for comfort every now and then. literally this story idea has been in my head, i can hear harry and y/n talking constantly in my head. feedback, reblogs, likes are greatly appreciated!!)

[days-until-burnout]

For a request, some Cleo x Martyn in Last Life, when they were the last two greens and staying at Rens base with Scott, Ren and Pearl?

i would like to apologize: 1. i have not seen last life and 2. i dont know what i wrote. my brain stopped working as i was writing</3 ill do them justice another time i promise _____

📧 Day 72 -

Characters - Martyn/Cleo Words - 638 Time - 30 mins Content - Last Life

It was very late at night. The sky was clear without clouds, littered with twinkling stars, a sort of peace that usually came in the early days of the games. Peaceful, much too peaceful for anyone to relax, even if nothing could happen or was allowed to happen. Regardless, everyone looked over their shoulders at every step, learnt to silence their own breaths and heartbeats and even their thoughts for hours at a time. Endless paranoia. Unable to shake it off.

Again, it was very late at night, an hour where everyone should be asleep. If not sleeping, then paranoid pacing on their bases, around, sneaking in and out to not trigger any nearby hostile mob.

Cleo sat atop a ledge, blanket wrapped around her shoulders, holding the edges tight in her hands. Her breath clouded in front of them, the shine of their sword's blade glimmered in the corner of her eyes, like ripples at sea.

"You're restless," a voice said, footsteps getting closer and stopping beside her.

She let out a scoff, rolling her eyes back to the sky, a warmth still on her skin. The vastness was beautiful and vibrant, everything so clear and sharp, and they could pretend nothing was going on for a moment.

"Speaking for yourself?"

Martyn breathed out with a hesitant 'eh-eh' as he sat beside her. Cleo noticed, as soon as he settled, the warmth from his body. No one was as warm as he was, no longer at least. At some point everyone had been, but now it was just him and them.

It would not last longer, she knew.

"Worried?" Martyn asked after a second. It was obvious what he was leading to, what he was referring to, so Cleo scoffed again.

"Sort of," she admitted, and Martyn half-gasped in surprised. Maybe he did not expect the honestly, or maybe it was something else, but Cleo decided to not ask. Instead, they returned the query, "Are you?"

Martyn chuckled, nervously. Cleo could feel him shifting beside her, so she sighed, dropping their head from the start to stare at… green eyes.

Again, that would not last much longer, so she allowed themselves to enjoy it.

Even if for just a moment.

"I am, I mean. Last greens, you know?"

They nodded.

They sat a while after, not really talking. Cleo went back to look at the stars, and Martyn, well, Martyn say nervously. Cleo thought he might have wanted to go back inside, be near Ren or whatever, or even just be in the safety of walls. Outside was exposed, outside was dangerous, outside was their only fake freedom.

With a sigh, Cleo decided to tell him to go inside, not worry about them. But Martyn got ahead, not with words like expected, but a simple action.

His hand snuck under the blanket and found her hand, hesitantly taking it in his. He was shaking, plenty, and she was frozen for a moment. A short moment.

"Alright," she whispered, looking at him. Green eyes looked at her with hope, sheepish hope and sheepish smile, squeezing their hand a tad. "Alright," she repeated, much softer now before turning back to the stars. Martyn shifted closer, until their shoulders bumped, warmer than the blanket could ever be.

"It's quiet."

"Hm?"

"Tonight, the forest- It's all quiet. Eerily quiet."

"I don't mind."

"No, I didn't think you would've." He sighed, their hands falling between their thighs, holding each other. Cleo heard him chuckle, a smile on his lips, "Last greens. Won't last long."

They laughed too, "No, I don't think we will."

Martyn dropped his head on Cleo's shoulders, sighing as he did. His breath was warm, like his touch, a normal beating heart. Her own the same, beat by beat for a couple more hours, maybe, if they were lucky.

_____

[doctorwyvern]

been feeling sick recently. anyway headcanon time!

totally not just doing this to avoid my wips

Kyborg (the mighty)

he keeps an author morgan style journal with little doodles and stuff. not saying they’re good but he does it anyway. definitely helped him keep track of everything when he was in the evirwinter woods

chronic pain haver

chronic pain DENIER. will push through it (even if he hurts himself stupidly)

so so painfully stubborn. dude you can take a break no one is gonna judge you homie stop being so tense

i personally hc that elves can choose to sleep or to trance and kyborg exclusively trances so never dreams

if/when he does fully sleep he has very vivid dreams

his hair is super long and he does his best to keep it combed and neat

however sometimes he doesn’t take care of himself and it can easily turn into a greasy rats nest

but most times he just keeps it down or in a half updo

and when he’s extra attentive he decorates it just like he and his family would.

worlds best social cue misser

sooo mentally ill. later on he talks with dr ahem and they develop a friendship. they meet up when not on missions and kinda just talk

this makes dr ahems confession a million times worse btw

professional hater

Mudd

SOOO AUTISTIC

and transmasc

never ever takes off his cape. it’s nice and heavy on his shoulders and back and he likes that

very expressionless and kinda blunt

also misinterprets social cues but instead of spouting nonsense hes confused by other peoples nonsense (does this make sense?)

runs from his problems (literally and metaphorically)

would rather die then ever confront his family ever

he is so neurological disabled to me.

he’s always had memory problems all throughout his life, but shaman seuss definitely messed up his brain worse with those memory rocks

has a hard time telling his fake memories from his real memories

sometimes forgets clay was never real because of his fake memories

chronic headaches. maybe from those enchanted rocks,? they get worse after his arc

his bag is soo full of random cool (non magical) rocks he finds

sometimes super loud (especially when he’s excited) and gets embarrassed about it

he was brought up as a royal and is sometimes too weirdly formal

hates loud sounds so bad. covers / pulls on his ears when it’s too loud

Bart! Bart! Bart!

coolest sideburns in the west

i know his canon design has him barefoot but i reject that. this man wears leather boots

hopeless romantic

soo queer. just in all the ways. pansexual and gender-fluid because he can’t decide for shit

Expert navigator! can get around anywhere

definitely nosy. digs into stuff that is none of his business

drama lover

scarily good with a dagger

also keeps a journal but mostly for doodling cool people he sees when he’s out and about

extremely patient. he’s like a saint

also loyal, especially to gum gum

when he was done sailing on the jebadiah he immediately set out to find gum gum again

he was fiercely protective of gum gum in the orphanage

doenst understand sheet music

but he’s a musical master. he can make up songs anytime with anything

very craft. after all he fashioned himself a little lute and taught himself to sing

tries to be very non judgmental (ahem ahem he’s like the only one who tries to be nice to slique)

for the longest time he thought his parents didn’t care about him but he was ECSTATIC to meat omar and tsimsun

Gum Gum!!!

has a big book of flowers (with pictures!)

knows how to hand sew and patches his own clothes (albeit a little haphazardly)

when he was younger he would genuinely believe anyhting you told him about his parents

that’s why he never looked for his mom because someone told him she died

constantly imagining what his dad could look like

honestly refuses to casually take his hat off

bart has to struggle to get him to take care of his hair because of this

he has super thick hair and hates to get it cut so he has a weird mullet going on

heavy sleeper + snores

sometimes he just likes to sit back when people are talking and listen

sometimes nonverbal

also autistic (perhaps med support needs?)

haates it when he thinks people aren’t taking him seriously

has a gnarly dog bite scar on his arm from when he was younger ( 👀 ! )

wears the same coat and hat all the time

picky eater

bart always helps to accommodate him and is patient when he tries to speak. this means so much to me btw. they are literally brothers

talks in a like funny way. idk how to explain this he just does this in canon.

sometimes repeats the words he hears

i forget what this is called

i have a fever as i’m typing this so i hope it’s comprehensive. OK BYE

[lixenn]

OCtober 2024 day 9: relationships

I'm taking this oppurtunity to offer more insight into Dan's platonic relationships since the romance features heavily in the later part of the sequel and I'm not really comfortable sharing snippets from that story until everything is properly hammered out.

So, I will talk a bit more about Dan's friendship with Vlasta. For everyone new: Vlasta is heavily inspired by my dear friend @childe-of-saulot and I love them to bits even though it feels like I don't talk much about them on tumblr OTL

Vlasta is part of Varia Housekeeping and they work as a gardener but honestly they will do all sorts of menial tasks as they are really the opposite of squeamish. Their friendship with Dan started mostly with their common interest in plants and developed from there. Dan likes Vlasta a lot, though he's often heavily exasperated with their freaky sex life and their wish to include him in on it. Otherwise they get along fine, bonding over poisonous plants and trolling people with their matching deadpan faces.

On other news! I have finally named Dan's brother, once again thank you @myrmyrtheorca for your help, I'd be lost without you bud 🫡💜

Anyways enough of my yapping enjoy the snippet under the cut, hope you guys like it 🫡

---

Dan gave Vlasta a hard stare. “No, you aren’t allowed to sleep with my sister.”

That earned him their special version of a pout, which took the form of a slight frown and crossed arms. “Why not?”

“First of all: she’s married.”

“I don’t see your point, that’s just makes her hotter.”

“Second of all,” Dan stressed before Vlasta can go on more about his sister’s hotness. “she doesn’t do casual intimate relationships. Also, she prefers men.”

The smirk on Vlasta’s face filled Dan with pure dread. Whatever would come out of their mouth was going to require heavy brainbleach, he could already tell.

They tilted their head, eyes glinting, probably smelling Dan’s desperation in the air. “I could fuck her better than any man she’s ever been with.”

Goddammit.

Dan wanted to crawl into a hole and never speak to another person again. He would never be able to unhear this, it was going to turn up in his nightmares. Maybe he should just bash his head against the wall in the hopes that it would give him temporary amnesia.

…

No, he couldn’t afford to lose the brain cells.

He sighed. “No fucking my sister, don’t even talk about sex and Rina in any kind of context. Actually, don’t think about her at all.”

His words were met with more frowny pouting. “You’re such a buzzkill sometimes, Chief.”

“Excuse me for not being interested in my sister’s sex life,” Dan deadpanned, hoping to end this discussion to spare him further psychic damage.

But Vlasta was on the hunt now and they showed him no mercy.

“So, about your parents-”

He didn’t let them finish. “No! No fucking my parents either, what is wrong with you?” He held up his hand. “Don’t answer that.”

Vlasta closed their mouth, actually looking disappointed like they would have been delighted to list all their mental illnesses in alphabetical order. They probably had it written down somewhere to show it off to anyone interested because “tmi” is not part of their vocabulary.

“Wait.” Goosebumps ran down Dan’s spine, he might develop an allergy to Vlasta’s voice if this continued. “Don’t you have a brother?”

Dan was ready to utter another scathing retort on how his family members are entirely of limits for Vlasta’s version of bonding-activities, but he stopped himself at the last moment. Turned the words over in his head. Inspected them from head to toe. Considered the situation. And made a choice.

“Fine.”

Surprise crept on Vlasta’s face. “Fine? Seriously? Just like that?”

Dan nodded. “Just like that.”

“Why?”

Now, Dan could lie here. Make up some bullshit, smidge the truth a bit. His pokerface was excellent and while Vlasta might be able to see through him because they are observant and used to his lack of facial expressions, they might just roll with it if it was funny enough. Or they might call him out but it’s not like Dan ever really cared when somebody commented on his hypocrisy. Shame? Don’t know her.

But.

He didn’t really want to, so he just went with the truth.

“I don’t like him.”

“You… don’t like him.”

It was hard to pinpoint Vlasta’s tone. The slight curve to their lips and the tilt of their head hinted at a mixture of curiosity and amusement. Like a cat finding a new toy it can destroy. But one never can be sure what really goes on in Vlasta’s brain, for that way lies madness and chaos which was better left alone.

“Yeah,” Dan shrugged. “He’s a bit of a stuck-up twat to be honest. You can have him if you want, just don’t do permanent damage it would make Ma’ sad.”

Vlasta smirked. “Oh, we wouldn’t want upset Ma’, would we?” At his sharp look, they held up their hands in surrender. “No worries, Chief. I will take good care of your brother.”

Dan imagined Francesco facing what Vlasta would consider good care. And burst out into pearling laughter. His brother would be horrified, scandalized, shaken to his very core.

Honestly deserved. He really needs to get that stick out of his ass.

His chuckles died off, mouth hurting from laughing so hard. He gave Vlasta a small grin, relishing in their widened eyes. “Sure, have fun. Say hi to Checco for me, will you?”

[molarbeardoc]

HI I’M SORRY FOR THE SPIVE ANGST SORRY CHAT PLEASE LOVE ME I’M SORRY PLEASE LOOK I’M DOING FLUFF TO MAKE YOU HAPPY PLEASE DON’T PLACE MY HEAD ON STICK PWETTY PWEASEEEEE I’M JUST A BABY A BABY WRITER DON’T HURT MWEEEEEEE

Fanfic based off THIS LOVELY PERSON’S ART PLEASE SHOW THEM SOME LOVE NOWWWWW 💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤💛🖤

Anyway fanfic starts now :3

Mornings…

Who would want to leave the soft and warm comfort of their bed? The embrace of one’s sheets wrapped around them as if they were but a small infant once more.

There was not a single person in the world who actually enjoyed getting up.

Absolutely no one..

Not a single person…

Nope!

Okay that might have been just a teeny tiny lie…

Well… Not really a lie? How am I supposed to know, I’m just a narrator get off my back!

Moving on…

There really was one person who enjoyed mornings. For her, that meant she had lived to see another day. That she had evaded capture once more. No one could catch a genius, a reborn, intuitive Einstein as she would say. That’s right! Bive was the smartest cookie there was!

Mornings were a sign of hope, that she still had a chance to spread the truth! A chance to save everyone. Of course some were too far gone to be saved and would have to suffer the consequences for when the clowns came and snow soldiers took over but they picked their poison. They made their bed. They dug their graves. Now they had to lay in them when the time came.

Besides! Even if she couldn’t save everyone, she could save some of them! She could use her cleverness to think of plans to save those who listened. Her brains to find solutions to their biggest problems. She could accomplish anything as long as she was wide awake, as long as the gears in her head were constantly turning!

…

So why weren’t they spinning now?

She stared at her corkboard, her expression dull as she leaned against the brick wall of the maze. She felt horrible. Her head was killing her and her special brew wasn’t helping her in the slightest. If anything it made it worse! She felt top heavy and ill, her arms and legs acted as if they were a fruity gelatine. Maybe even a sweet lime flavour gelatine…

If that didn’t sound awful already. She was groggy and irritated. Her cat-like reflexes were more like a snail’s and her vision would occasionally blur.

What in the name of Clown Militia was going on with her?!

She let out an annoyed groan as she used the wall to keep herself upright before eventually succumbing and falling over. It was as if her own body were betraying her!

Useless vessel. Didn’t know she was the reason it was even alive! Talk about ungrateful…

There had to be someone she could trust to assist her. DrRETRO? No. That furball thought she was insane. Poob? No. They’d make it worse with their constant partying. Mark? He’d try and fix her with some sort of wood trick. Wallter? He trusts the flowers… Absolutely not…

Wait… God it was worse than she thought. She couldn’t even CONTACT any of them! None of them had her signal! Oh the fool she was! A complete and total fool!

Who had her radio signal..? Her memory was a bit fogged at the moment but she knew she gave it to someone..

Aha! Split! At least she thinks so? She couldn’t remember very well. She reached for her radio, twisting and turning the knobs as she attempted to reach the fruit-taur, letting out a cry of pain from the feedback and hissing through her teeth.

She let out a quiet sigh, trying to ignore the splitting pain that shot through her head, with every knob turn a new static frequency filling the air. Her voice croaking as she spoke into the radio.

"Split?"

"Split are you there?!"

The fruit-taur was sleeping peacefully in her own bed, a small banana-themed night light shining on her nightstand beside her alarm clock. It was still frankly early, only about 4am.

All was quiet…

"SPLIT!"

… Until it wasn’t…

Split immediately shot up, breathing heavily as she was suddenly awoken from her restful slumber. Her heart racing as she glanced around frantically.

"WHO’S THERE?! SHOW YOURSELF! I KNOW KUNG FU! I’VE SEEN ENOUGH MOVIES TO KNOW WHAT I’M DOING!"

Despite being unable to see, she immediately went on the defensive, tensing up as she tried to look as threatening as possible.

"Split…? Split are you there? Split..? Split!"

She turned towards her nightstand, the adrenaline dying down as it slowly became replaced with tired realization. She grabbed her glasses, putting them on before reaching for the radio.

"SPLIT?! Oh no. DID THE CLOWNS GET YOU?! OH GOD THIS IS AWFUL THEY KIDNAPPED HER?! WHAT AM I GONNA DO?! If they got her… THEN THEY’RE ATTACKING NOW! OH MY GOD OH MY GOD! THAT MEANS THEY’RE COMING FOR ME NEXT! I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE THEY CATCH ME AND-"

"Bivey, you’re spiralling again…"

Bive’s side of the radio went quiet, as if she were processing the moment before answering.

"SPLIT YOU’RE OKAY- AcK- Ow ow radio feedback ow."

Split couldn’t help but smile, finding her worry endearing before speaking up.

"Yes, I’m fine. What’s going on with you? It’s uh…"

She glanced at the clock.

"Four in the morning. I don’t even think the early bird gets up this early!"

"IT’S AN EMERGENCY! THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME!"

"What-?"

Well that was concerning news.

"What do you mean something is wrong with you?"

"MY BODY IS ACTING WEIRD. I THINK I MAY HAVE BEEN POISONED! SOMEONE POISONED ME!"

She listened as the detective rambled on and on, blinking as she tried to slowly put everything together.

"Poisoned-? Bive what-? No one poisoned you. You probably just have a cold."

"THAT’S IMPOSSIBLE! I CAN’T GET SICK! I-"

"Okay okay fine! You’re not sick! Just calm down."

"HOW CAN I CALM DOWN WHEN I’VE BEEN POISONED?!"

"Oh my… Bive? Just… Stay calm for now? I’ll be over soon."

Guess she wasn’t sleeping in like she originally planned. She sighed as Bive rambled some incoherent words before the radio went dead, having no clue what she said before she got up. She was just in a comfortable T-shirt, that’s decent enough to go out.

It’s not like anyone would see her, it was too early for someone to be out and about on the elevator… Apart from her of course…

Bive was leaning against the wall, her head still throbbing and body still weak. She felt awful. There was no way she WASN’T poisoned. How was this even possible?! Even if they DID make it through the maze, how did they catch her off guard?! She was awake the whole time!

This was worse than she thought. Her enemies were getting smarter. They had found her location, slipped through the maze, and caught her off guard while she was on guard! Oh this was horrible. Truly terrible! How could she save anyone in her weakened state?!

The next hours were spent in agony. Well at least it felt like hours, it had really been only thirty minutes as she sat there patiently. Waiting for the Split’s arrival.

Speaking of Split, she was already stepping off the elevator, standing outside of the maze as she yawned. The sun hadn’t even risen yet, it wasn’t even dawn. She entered the maze, knowing her way decently enough to where she couldn’t get lost and only worrying about Scary Mike and an overly excited Fleshy, more so Mike, as she navigated herself through it.

Turning one of corners, she noticed the soft glow of a yellow light. Bingo. She quickened her pace down the hall, the strong scent of coffee wafting over her as the glow became stronger. Soon enough, she was met with the living quarters of the paranoid detective.

It was just as unorganized as she remembered, red string and empty styrofoam cups littered the floor. At least she listened to her the last time Split was over and picked up the thumbtacks, those were just accidents waiting to happen. Her floppy ears lifted as she heard a quiet and pained groan, looking down to see that Bive was on the floor, against the wall, with her head in her hands.

"Bive?"

She let out a startled yelp, trying to jump back only to met with a brick wall as she hissed through gritted teeth. That didn’t help with her headache and weak body at all… She looked up at the fruit-taur, a wave of relief and realization washing over her.

"SPLIT-! HI! HELLO…"

"Are you okay?"

"No! I’ve been POISONED! I’m going to DIE!"

"You’re not going to die."

"YES I AM!"

"Why do you think that?"

"BECAUSE THERE’S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME!"

She winced in pain as she felt another debilitating stroke of pain shoot through her head, gritting her teeth and using the wall to stand as she leaned against it. Seeing her state, Split grew concerned. Her being poisoned was a stretch but there was very well a chance she may have done or eaten something that could cause her this much harm.

"Can you tell me exactly what you’re feeling right now..?"

"Er-! A stupid headache… I feel a bit nauseous… lightweight… Annoyed with everything.."

"Have you eaten?"

"Yes…"

"Have you had some water?"

"..Yes…"

"Have you slept..?"

"…"

"Have. You. Slept?"

"Uh… No…"

"When’s the last time you have?"

"…"

"Bive… When was the last time you slept?"

"Hold on. I’m trying to remember…"

"You shouldn’t have to remember! It should’ve been recently!"

"BUT THAT LEAVES ME VULNERABLE TO THE CLOWNS AND SO-"

"You’re also vulnerable to them if you DON’T sleep!"

Touché…

"Oh please, I’m not even tired!"

"Doesn’t mean anything!"

"I think it means a lot!"

"Do you want to feel better or not?"

"I do."

"Then go to sleep!"

"But-!"

"No no! I don’t wanna hear it. No buts! If you’re that worried about being attacked by someone, I can just stay with you! Problem solved!"

Bive stared at Split for a moment. She’s never had her stay over. But seeing how much the fruit-taur wanted her to sleep, she knew she didn’t have much of a choice.

"Fine."

"Thank you…"

Split watched as the detective huffed and left to go get ready for bed, smiling as she grumbled underneath her breath. Even if she wasn’t happy with the idea, it was certainly necessary.

She continued to wait patiently before Bive reappeared, no longer in her classic coat and pants but in her own sleepwear.

"I don’t like this."

"Too bad. You need it."

"Do I though?"

"Go to bed."

Seeing as she wasn’t going to be able to wriggle herself away from this situation, she groaned before heading off back to her room, falling onto the bed and just laying there while waiting for fall asleep. She wasn’t very good at this thing…

Split stood outside the door, still feeling sluggish but forcing herself to stay awake. She had no idea what time it was since Bive owned no clocks; something about time being stopped and how every other clock was a fake, but it felt as if it were still early. She felt herself dozing off, but tried to fight against it. Right as she was about to drift off to sleep, she felt someone tap her shoulder.

"Split…? I can’t sleep."

She jerked awake, staring down at Bive before sighing.

"Are you okay?"

"I’m fine! Just tired.."

"Oh…"

"…"

"Do you wanna sleep in my bed?"

"What?"

"I MEAN YOU DON’T HAVE TO! I just thought.. Ya know!"

She stared tiredly down at the stammering and jittery detective, a small grin appearing on her face.

"I’ll take you up on that offer…"

Bive paused, looking at Split before forcing out a nervous laugh.

"AHAH! Uh OKAY!"

She led the fruit-taur into her room, watching as she dragged her paws towards the bed. She paused midway before looking towards Bive.

"Wait. Where are you gonna sleep?"

"Uhh… I just… won’t? Since I’m not tired..?"

She gave her a nervous smile, flashing her yellow tinted teeth at Split. Unfortunately for her, the other’s gaze hardened.

"Alright, I’ll just fix it this way."

Before she could get a reply out, she was dragged into the bed with her, the fruit-taur was holding her close as she sighed.

"This… This isn’t necessary you know?"

"Yes it is."

"But-"

"Bivey?"

"… Yes?"

"Goodnight."

"… Goodnight, Split.."

Bive fell quiet, listening quietly as Split’s breathing eventually slowed into quiet snores. She laid there a moment, before clinging onto the other, snuggling against her before sighing. A sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her as she began drifting off.

"Goodnight…"

RAHHHHHHH FANFIC FINISHED. Sorry if it isn’t as good as my angst fic, I hope you enjoyed it though!!!!!

Omw to work on the Cheshire Cat doomed yuri fanfic someone double dog dared me to write now bye sillies <3

[the-queen-and-the-king]

Just a booty call - 9

Summary: S05E01. Aaron doesn't answer his phone. Emily is convinced that something had happened and leaves Spencer with the doctor to go see what's going on at Hotch's place.

Characters: Aaron Hotchner, Emily Prentiss

Contents: Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaangst! Slight mention of what's happened in Canda, explicit description of what Foyet did to Hotch, two smutty sentences at the beginning but then, it's all anxiety, fear, and tears NSFW/MINORS DNI

This text is a try, with a reverse structure compared to the other Hotchniss' AU I'm used to work on. It all starts with a FWB that will evolve into something else (with a certain amount of angst).

PS : English is not my mother language so they are necessarily mistakes. Sorry about that.

___

It wasn't normal. Hotch not answering his phone, that couldn't be normal. The other team members didn't seem to mind much, but she did. Since she'd joined the department, she'd never seen the manager absent, ill or late – with the exception of the layoff that had sounded the death knell for his marriage – and he'd always answered her calls and messages, no matter what the time. How, then, could one conceive of this silence as normal? Admittedly, they had returned late at night from a grueling investigation, yet everyone was present. Except him. There was something fishy going on, and she had to go and make sure everything was okay.

On the way, Emily replayed the film of the previous days. Nausea gripped her at first, as she thought back to the uterine duo that had claimed so many lives in total indifference. Nausea, too, at the way one had manipulated the other, taken advantage of his weakness to conduct this sordid experiment that had come to nothing. Nausea, finally, because if one of them had to survive all that, it wasn't the right one who was left. This file would surely be on the list of those that remained in the memory, and whose images would retain all their vividness despite the years.

The giant had taken it hard, like them, but she hadn't noticed any abnormalities in his behavior. So that couldn't have been the reason for his absence. She went back in time again. The day before their departure for the Canadian border, she had joined him in his office for a sultry tête-à-tête. The upstairs deserted of its occupants due to the late hour, she had emerged into his den, a few buttons of her blouse knowingly undone, and closed the door behind her. They'd pulled down the blinds and she'd found herself lying on her back on her pants and panties pulled up to her knees, legs in the air. He, in turn, undressed and inserted himself into her without further ado. They had copulated frantically and came one after the other. They'd parted afterwards, kissed, and she'd gone home with a smile on her face.

Again, there was nothing unusual about his attitude. So, why? Why he wasn’t with them? Why the silence? As she walked down the corridor of his building, her brain tried to put things into perspective. There was bound to be a logical and not necessarily catastrophic explanation behind this situation. Maybe he hadn't heard the alarm clock go off – or had forgotten to set it – or his cell phone had been left in the living room – or had run out of battery and he was fast asleep. Yes, that must be it. Hotch was fine, just snoozing like a baby. At worst, he might have had water damage, which he was trying to manage as best he could with the couple of hours of sleep he'd managed to scrape together. In every case, he was fine.

An icy shiver ran down her spine as she noticed the door was open. It wasn’t normal. He always made sure to lock the door behind him. She drew her gun from its holster and pushed the gate open, her heart pounding against her ribs. The apartment was silent, but the light was on. Only the one in the living room, as she soon realized. The kitchen and the corridor leading to the bedrooms and bathrooms were plunged into darkness. She noted his satchel on the sofa and his keys on the chest of drawers. His holster was laying on the dining table. All the hairs on the back of her neck standing at attention, she moved forward again, not daring to call out. She saw the shards of glass and amber liquid on the ground before anything else.

When her gaze turned to the space between the sofa and the table, she discovered the phone abandoned under the table and a dark stain on the carpet that she struggled to analyze. What was that? It couldn’t be… No, it wasn’t. It was impossible. He was fine. He was sleeping, in his bedroom. She spun around, her revolver still pointed in front of her, sweat pouring down her back. A hole in the wall caught her eye. Hotch wasn’t the type to ransack furniture, so it was unlikely he’d damaged the wall. Someone had fired a shot. Someone, but who? And where was the vi… Where was the tenant of the premises? Stressed, she explored the other rooms in the dwelling, to no avail. And by the time she returned to the living room, her cortex had made all the necessary deductions, despite the panic she was feeling.

Aaron had fought with an intruder – armed, certainly – and one of the two combatants had been injured in the scuffle. She didn't dare think any further, even though she had all the evidence under her nose to determine the identity of whoever had lost this... blood. Hers froze in her veins. She refused to believe this scenario. It didn’t make sense. Her lover was a colossus. He was tall and strong. He was smart and trained. He was indestructible. We couldn't put him down, we couldn't shoot him, we couldn't... No. It was impossible. He was fine. He was somewhere, on his two legs, frowning and staring at someone with his dark eyes.

Unable to accept the facts, she called Penelope and gave her an account of what was before her eyes. The analyst immediately set off in search of the agency head, after calling in a team of technicians, at Emily’s request, to come and take all the needed samples. While waiting for them, she looked around, searching for other clues. She noticed that one of the windows wasn't closed – it had been lowered for illusion but wasn't locked like the others – and a page was missing from his address book. The page of B. Why? Nothing else seemed to be missing or out of place. Hotch was a bit of a maniac, so he rarely moved things around.  

Garcia called her back and told her that a tall, white, anonymous brown hair guy with Derek's accreditation had been dumped on the sidewalk of San Sebastian Hospital at around four o'clock in the morning. Her heart missed a beat. A tall, white, brown hair guy, he might have matched this description. Derek’s accreditation? Dumped on the sidewalk? Why? By whom? Four in the morning! She ogled her watch. It was past one o'clock. It had been nearly ten hours. Ten hours and no one knew who this man was. A dizzy spell forced her to sit down on the nearest chair.

She was on her feet when the technicians knocked on the door, however, and supervised their arrival and installation before handing over to another federal agent. She can’t stand it anymore. She had to go to the hospital to find out. To find out if it was him. Find out if he was fine. Find out how he got there and what happened back home. Her brain was a beehive buzzing with questions, and her heart a drum pounding in her temples. Her lungs were struggling to provide the oxygen she needed, and tears were rolling down her cheeks. She was afraid. Like… like in New York. Like when she'd seen Aaron blown away like a piece of straw after his car exploded. She'd never admitted it to her colleagues, but she was deeply relieved when they found him on his two feet, pestering for his clothes.

She chased away the tears clinging to her eyelashes that blurred her vision and smiled. She was likely to face a similar scene, with the medical staff trying to temper the ardor of the titan in a hurry to leave the premises. It was even a certainty. It couldn't be otherwise. Emily arrived at her destination less stressed than when she left Hotch's.

“Hello,” she said, coming up to the reception desk. “Agent Prentiss, FBI. I hear you had a man brought in last night with a badge on him.”

“Yes, that's right,” confirmed the young woman, leaning towards a drawer under the desk.

She grabbed an object from inside, straightened up in her chair and handed it to her. 

“Here.”

The profiler took it, opened it and her heart rate raced. It was Derek's plate, whose leather was worn from years of being opened and closed. There was blood on it. Old, oxidized, and solid, and recent traces, dark red and liquid. Who did it belong to?

“Do you know him?”

“What?” she croaked, interrupted in her thoughts.

“Is this the badge of someone you know?” asked the orderly, curious.

“Uh… yes, it’s… it’s a colleague.”

She had all the difficulty in the world to concentrate on the present moment. Her neurons raced with conjecture, preventing her from following a single idea and sticking to it. Until she caught on the fly the one thing that had been directing her actions all day. Or rather, the one person. Aaron.

“The… the man who had this... this badge, where is he?”

“Do you think he's one of yours?”

“I don't think anything, I just want to see him.”

Her tone may have been firmer than expected, but it had the merit of prompting the young intern to call someone who might be able to answer her questions. A woman with medium-length brown hair and dark-rimmed eyes emerged from the corridor a handful of minutes later and walked towards her with a determined step. She held a tablet in her hand, holding a thick layer of paper.

“Dr. Bastoni, you’re the federal agent?”

“Yes. Uh… Emily… Prentiss.”

The practitioner crushed her fingers, then noticed the accreditation she'd retrieved.

“An acquaintance of yours?”

“Y… yes. We… we are working together.”

In spite of herself, Emily was impressed by the aplomb of her interlocutor, who was smaller than she was. She had to pull herself together.

“Then maybe you'll be able to tell us who this man is who was left on our doorstep last night. Follow me,” she went on, not bothering to breathe.

They rushed into the corridor from which she had sprung, advancing energetically as she continued to speak.

“I imagine you must have a whole wheelbarrow of questions, so I'll try to give you all the answers we have.”

She then recounted how, at around half past four, a van with no license plates had pulled up to the hospital sidewalk. A guy inside – whose features nobody had paid attention to – had rolled their current patient across the floor, before taking off.

“It was impossible to see his face on the surveillance camera tapes; he was wearing a cap,” she pointed out as she took a turn to the right.

The nurses, who were taking their cigarette and coffee breaks nearby, had rushed to the injured man's side and brought him back inside for urgent treatment. 

“I might as well spill the beans right away: our mysterious stranger was stabbed multiple times in the torso. Nine times, to be quite exact. His attacker didn't pull any punches, she added briskly. The full length of the blade has been plunged into his flesh; the bruises around the gashes left by the weapon's hilt are visible.”

A cold shiver ran through Emily's ribcage. Stabbed? Nine times? It was… She felt like throwing up, but held on to the doctor's words as she lengthened:

“The guy used a smooth-edged blade. That said, it wasn’t easy to stop the bleeding and stitch the whole thing up.”

Normally, the nursing staff was rather stingy with this kind of detail with patients' relatives, but Bastoni seemed to consider that, being part of the Bureau, her listener could absorb this avalanche of morbid information. The latter wanted to tell her that not all FBI agencies worked on blood crimes, but feared that if she opened her mouth, she'd puked her breakfast. Hot flashes and cold waves fought in her chest.

“That said, his assailant knew what he was doing, as no vital organs were harmed. Heart, liver, pancreas, stomach, arteries... everything that shouldn't be touched is intact.”

Emily's own heart was pounding so hard and so fast under her ribs that she thought it was going to burst her chest. She knew of only one individual who ticked all the boxes in this modus operandi. A sociopathic, sadistic, frighteningly intelligent man who was still eluding the law, and who had a grudge against the director of the BAU. She didn't dare say his name, not even in her head.

“I'll be honest with you,” continued the practitioner, “if the guy we mended is one of yours, you should know that unless he lost consciousness at the first blow, he must have suffered. A lot.”

They had stopped near a new counter and Bastoni was now facing her. She seemed to be waiting for her to ask questions. But she had only two questions in mind, neither of which had anything to do with the investigation that this attack would inevitably lead to. She took a long breath and prayed that her voice would be as confident as possible.

“… How is he doing?”

“He lost a lot of blood and it took us several hours to stabilize him, but he's normally out of danger. We keep an eye on it, though.”

This last clarification had swept away the relief she had begun to feel. So she followed up with the second question.

“Can I see him?”

“He's still under anesthesia, but I can take you to his room. If only so that you can identify him.”

She nodded, unable to formulate any more words. The lady doctor led her a little further on, past rooms whose walls had been replaced by huge panes of glass. And behind one of them, he was there. Motionless, eyelids closed, bandages wrapped around his bare arms with cables and catheters. Aaron – her Aaron – was lying on that hospital bed, in that huge white coat, with a pallor that sent a chill down her spine. Then, without warning, she was overwhelmed by thoughts and emotions. Her brain reminded her of what he'd just been through, and she immediately imagined her lover grappling with Him. Him lacerating his torso in jubilation. Over and over again, Him pounding the body of his nemesis to death on the floor of his apartment, while those who could have helped him slept soundly at home. Him tossing his victim onto the tarmac like a piece of trash, satisfied to have supplanted the man who had dared to stand up to Him.

“Sit down,” advised her a remote voice.

She denied without opening her mouth. She represented the FBI; she had to stand her ground.

“Yes, you’ll sit down. I've seen corpses that looked better than you. And I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

Without really knowing how, she found herself settled on a chair nearby, her hands and legs trembling. The image of Aaron in the middle of a carmine pool, in the half-light of his living room, kept coming back to haunt her. They had landed at around two a.m. and he must have arrived home half an hour later. So, he'd spent an hour in the company of this madman. An hour of suffering, alone, with no one to help him. One hour of loneliness and pain. A nightmarish hour. Nausea returned to grip her throat.

“Here.”

A paper cup appeared in her field of vision, and she grabbed it without thinking. Bastoni took her place beside her, still adorned with her disarming assurance. She did, however, address Emily in a much softer voice than before.

“I assume you know him.”

She mumbled an affirmative reply.

“Which FBI department are you with?”

“… Justice.”

The woman smiled sympathetically.

“It's always harder when it's a colleague.”

She couldn't have been more right. All her body was vibrating. She was in a state of shock.

“Breathe. He's here, we're taking care of him, and soon he'll be as good as new. Well… more or less.”

The profiler looked at her, eyebrows furrowed. What was that supposed to mean?

“Despite all our efforts, he will be scarred for life.”

Like Him. Like that bastard who'd attacked him at his home. This freak had done it on purpose, she was sure. To mark him as much in his mind as in his flesh. So that he never forgets. To instill fear in him every time he pushed open the door of his home. Rage seized her, soothing the urge to vomit and keeping her tendons taut.

“Aaron Hotchner.”

“What?”

“He’s named Aaron Hotchner.”

“Oh! Good. How do you write it?”

She spelled out her superior's name – which no-one on the team called him – and turned her gaze to the glass behind which he lay.

“Can… can I come in?”

“Yes,” said her neighbor, looking up from the form she had to fill out about the patient. “But don’t expect to chat wit him. Not now, at least.”

“It’s okay. I… I just want to be with him.”

Bastoni's pupils darted at her, surely surprised by her turn of phrase, but she refrained from commenting. Had she understood that they were more than colleagues? It didn't matter to her at this hour. She just wanted to get into that room and sit next to him.

“Does he have kids?”

“What?”

“Does he have any children?”

“One. A boy of... three,” she hesitated, dubious about Jack's date of birth. “But… he and the mother are divorced.”

This didn't seem to stop the doctor from scribbling on her paper. Without paying any further attention to Emily, she left her seat and joined the nurse behind the counter. The profiler abandoned her chair too and slowly entered the room where Aaron was.

A sudden urge to cry rose in her chest. She wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be all right. She wanted to kiss him, hold him close and tell him it wouldn't change the way she felt about him. She also wished she'd had the ability to go back in time to break down the door of his house and explain her thoughts to the maniac who had disfigured the man she loved. Yes. She loved Aaron. Sincerely. Deeply. Not just because he gave her pleasure. She loved him for what he was. Or what he has been? Or what she thought he was?

What did she really know about him? They'd never bothered to talk about themselves, their childhoods, their families, their friends outside the BAU, their hobbies or passions. She had no idea what his favorite color was, what his bedside movie was, or what he loved to eat most of all. Except for what was hidden under his costumes, she didn't know much more than the others in the end. Would it make any difference if she had all this knowledge? Would she love him less? Would she hate him? She didn’t know. Her mind was a mess anyway. She cried, scared and anxious.

She moved the armchair closer to the bed and sat down. He was so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body. Even in a bad way, he still had that aura that comforted her and made her feel safe. But seeing him like that, as inert as a dead man – his ribcage was rising very subtly – distressed her. Apart from that Valentine's Day evening, which now seemed terribly far away, she couldn't remember ever having seen him with his eyes closed. Yet he slept, like everyone else, but seeing him bedridden like that seemed unreal. This made her want to protect him even more. He was so vulnerable in this position that the mere fact that the window blinds weren't down was life-threatening. She was suddenly worried about everything: was he cold? Did the light bother him? Did he need an extra pillow?

Failing to be of any help to him, she dared to take his hand in hers, hoping that this might motivate him to return among them. His palm, usually burning hot, was now warm. If Spencer had been there, he'd surely have told him that this was what happened when a person's survival was in danger: the blood flowed back from the extremities to supply only the vital organs with oxygen. She knew it as well as he did, but having physical proof of it was somewhat unsettling. Instead, she focused her attention on something else, clasping her fingers in his, kissing his knuckles before brushing his cheek.

He was handsome. This thought passed through her skull without warning and caused her to tremble. That was true. Despite the context, he was as attractive as ever. A thought that brought a smile to her lips. Then, keeping his hand behind her, Emily stood up, leaned towards him, and placed a kiss on his forehead. Then she whispered:

“I love you, Aaron.”

___

To be honest, writing this chapter was such a relief. I didn't have anymore ideas to write smut chapters. ^^;

___

First chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/757694774493986816/just-a-booty-call-1?source=share

Next chapter >> https://www.tumblr.com/the-queen-and-the-king/763402376044511232/just-a-booty-call-10?source=share

[quodekash]

guys jokezo just made out and now they have to share a bed together. just chew on that for a bit.

NO, DON'T GIVE ME THEM SITTING ON A BUS

GIVE ME WHAT HAPPENED WHEN THEY HAD TO SLEEP IN THE SAME FREAKING BED IMMEDIATELY AFTER THEY MADE OUT

👀

(they made out last night btw)

(just in case anyone forgot)

(and then they had to share a bed)

ass x7

also zo is fully just not doing anything lmao

everyone's pushing with all their might and zo is just 🧍‍♂️

FUIWEBSDGIOUVEWJBOGD

oh the desperate thigh grab

yeah, im with him on this, they need to talk about it. especially about how they had to slEEP IN THE SAME FREAKING BED AFTER THAT

welp. I guess joke's day was just ruined in a slap to the face disguised as a few words

AND THE WAY HE TAKES HIS HAND OFF ZO'S THIGH AFTER THAT????? OUCHHHH

I must say tho, this is really giving episode-6-of-bad-buddy

its very patpran-post-rooftop-kiss-core

the vibes be gay and yearning and very very sad

OKAY, THE MOTHER, FINALLY

a few things to say about her

1. she's gorgeous

2. DAMN she is SHORT

3. I was rewatching the first four episodes yesterday and today because I could, and I noticed in the first episode, zo asked his friends to not tag him in photos they took at the bar, because "I don't want my mum to see"

but my question is... why? he's just out drinking with friends, he's an adult, he's not being irresponsible or anything, so why doesn't he want her to see the photos?

is it something to do with what his mum thinks of him? is she overbearing? does she have high expectations of him? does she kinda suck?

she's probably lovely though, and ill end up adding her to my list-of-fictional-parents-to-get-adopted-by (it's a very long list)

I guess we shall find out today as the episode progresses

oh, honey, you're so queer

the amount of times ive done exactly this

she's so short its hilarious omg

also: ive decided I love his mum

she's so sweet

and neither of them know how to use a stove and I think that's so hilarious and endearing

HSDHSHFSHDHHS

(also: this scene is making me think of akkayan at aye's house having a meal with his mum and rhbgdhjgb)

he's putting two and two together

the few braincells he has that aren't dedicated to debating are whirring in his mind

I can practically hear his thoughts

"he kissed me back... he wants to talk about the kiss... we went on two dates together at his suggestion... he showed up at my house and charmed my mother... he says I have secret admirers..." cmon sweetie youre so close

"WAIT, DOES HE LIKE ME?" omg honeybun you did it!

or maybe he didn't do it

maybe he was still shuffling the pieces in his brain but hadn't put them together and then his mum said something and distracted him

either way: that was hilarious and I want to high five dunk for his acting there

HIGH EXPECTATIONS, I KNEW IT

still love her tho

high expectations suck but she seems wonderful so far (obviously my opinion will change if the circumstances do (like if it turns out she completely sucks) but for now she's made it to the adoption list)

brb, gonna go cry real quick

well now their thumbs are making out

you see, I understand the things he's saying. and I honestly agree with him. if I were ever somehow put in his position, id probably say the same things.

HOWEVER, I just want my bl boys to kiss again and be happy and together and I appreciate the realism over the usual fantasy kinda situation we go for in bls, but I just want them to kissssss

this is very good advice

I hope that jokezo kiss again this episode

also AAAGBRDHFKBG JENGPOK CRUMBS

YOU'LL NEVER GUESS WHO'S LOSING THEIR MIND OVER JENGPOK AGAIN

BERIUFDJKGBEORPVFD

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

SHUT UP

SHUT UP SHUT UP

IM NOT CRYING YOU'RE CRYING

FHEWSDGFVESDV

THIS IS TOO FUNNY

im gonna start crying soon

its so funny

help me

girl is worried

I know this is what jeng told you to do but is during debate club really the right moment

im so certain that she ships it

awwhhhhh

HE SAID IT

HE SAID THE THING

AAAAAAAAA

hell yeah

GOUERJLHDGOBIERVLDNF

AAAAAAAAAAA

IM SCREAMING

THATS IT??

THAT'S THE END OF THE EPISODE??

THEY DIDNT EVEN KISS

OR ADDRESS THE FACT THAT - and I can't stress this enough - THEY SLEPT IN THE SAME FREAKING BED AFTER FULL-ASS MAKING OUT

omg next episode is gonna be amazing

I can't wait

gekjrdsbfd I love them so much

im like 70% certain they're gonna kiss next episode so fingers crossed

ALSO NITA DEFINITELY SHIPS IT

anyway. that was good. I should go to sleep now